


Keep holding on (don't let them see you break)

by JForward



Series: A universe that doesn't care (and people that do) [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Assault, Disordered Eating, Fainting, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Injury, More tags to come later, Nightmares, Not Shippy, Panic Attacks, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, The Doctor needs so many hugs, Trauma, Vomiting, Whump, Yaz is a good bean, Yaz is gentle, but it fills the same role, sort of? It's ginger, the doctor is Not Okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:55:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 25,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23554888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JForward/pseuds/JForward
Summary: They got used to living lives like normal people. Six months of reality.Then the Doctor comes knocking on Yaz's door before dawn.And it becomes clear that some damage runs deeper than even bright smiles can hide.Complete!
Series: A universe that doesn't care (and people that do) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722211
Comments: 139
Kudos: 140





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've not written fic for a really, REALLY long time. Wow.
> 
> This is going to be angst heavy, tags will change as time goes on, please be aware of the tags and any potential triggers!!
> 
> Huge thanks to my marvellous beta readers who catch all my dumb mistakes.

  
They'd gotten used to it.  
Life, without the Doctor.

It was strange, at first. The human survivors seemed okay, if in shock, so the fam let them be. They'd found their way home to Graham's place, and when they arrived, there was quiet - for a time.  
They'd moved into the quiet house, turning on lights. Graham had gone to the kitchen and made tea for all of them. A sense of understanding fell between them, a quiet need to be together, at least for now.

Yaz couldn't face her family. Hands wrapped around the mug, feeling it warm her. That strange, strange sensation of ... normality. How could anything be normal ever again? She was back in twenty nineteen. She was having a cup of tea, milk, two sugars. Sheffield. Her home.

And yet - the Doctor was gone. The crazy, wild woman - unbelievable, incredible, so very obviously not human and at times, so very - very human. She swallowed another mouthful, too hot, letting it burn just a little, because that was something real that she could focus on. She rubbed her thumb on the ceramic and looked over at her companions.

Graham was resting his mug on his leg, staring out the window, looking completely away from them. His eyes were distant, and Yaz found herself wondering if his thoughts were familiar. Ryan was staring into his tea, not drinking it at all, hunched forward on the table. The fridge ticked over and changed to a hum and he startled, looking at it. Without a word, Yaz reached out and rested a hand on his arm.

Graham glanced back around at the motion, and Yaz smiled at him, too. It felt weird, highly aware of her movements, for some reason. Like everything was exaggerating. Her mind hadn't quite realised that she was - safe. Where she belonged, rather than in the far future, fighting off incredibly dangerous, insane monsters... she sipped her tea to chase away a confusing tang of iron in her throat.

"Do you think they'll be okay?" Graham spoke, softly, eyes back to out the window.  
"The Doctor's smart. If Ko Sharmus got there in time -"  
"No, no. Not - not the Doc. I'm worried about her too, but - y'know. Ravio, Yedlarmi, Ethan. Their TARDIS - it turned into a house, didn't it? Like the Master's?"   
Yaz nodded, slowly.   
"They're from the future." she murmured. "They're not gonna know how to do - anything, are they?"  
"No. No, so I was - I'll go over there. Tomorrow. Help 'em get started, y'know?"  
"I'll go with you." Ryan said, softly.   
Yaz looked back at her tea again, before taking another sip, thinking about the Doctor. About her face, when she'd insisted that she had to do this. To leave them behind.

Time slipped away. They sat there, occasionally speaking, until dawn. None of them wanted to sleep.   
Not tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

  
Knock, knock.

She stirred, slowly. Where was she? Rough fabric under her hands, twinges running up her back, a slightly scratchy blanket laid awkwardly on her. Oh. Sofa. Ow. Pushing up slowly, Yaz grimaced, feeling nasty bits of sweat in uncomfortable places.

_Knock, knock, knock._

She groaned. What time was it? A glance out of the window showed her it was still dark. The flat was fairly quiet, pleasantly warm. Doors were shut, TV off. Oh. She'd been watching a movie, hadn't she? Fallen asleep on the sofa again. She stretched as she got to her feet.

**KNOCK, KNOCK -**

"Alright, alright! I'm coming, jeez, who's knocking at this time of the morning -" she moved towards the door, feet dragging on the carpet, glad she was in comfy pyjama bottoms instead of her jeans. Ugh, her mouth tasted like stale popcorn. Flicking on the hall light with one hand, she unlocked the door with the other, the key cold and - 

"Yaz." the voice. Something cold wrapped around her lungs, and she almost felt them crackle, freezing. "Yaz, can you let me in?"   
"Yes - yes, of course." she forced iced limbs to move, throwing the door open, eyes wide. It was like seeing a ghost. Maybe she was seeing a ghost, because -  
"You're dead." it came out like a squeak. Oh, that smile. That beam, a hundred-watt full tooth grin that could blind you if you weren't careful - she'd missed it.

"Not dead! Very not dead." she said, almost rocking on her heels, "Very glad to see you, Yasmin Khan, very glad. I missed my fam. Can I come in? Dying for a cuppa -"   
She moved in and Yaz moved back, automatically, letting her in as the Doctor made her way to the kitchen. Shutting the door slowly, feet almost ghosted over the carpet, unable to take her eyes off the ball of energy whirling around, clattering -

"You're lucky my parents aren't here." she said, "My dad would've come charging out shouting about burglars, by now."  
Coming to a stop, arms hung awkwardly at her side. She looked - the same. Her coat whirled. The same coat, the same clothes. The Doctor put the kettle on, and had managed to locate mugs, dumping in a tea bag.

"Do you have custard creams? I'm starving." she started opening and closing cupboards, then paused, turning to look at Yaz with a slender hand still curled around a cabinet handle.  
"What about your sister?" she asked, eyebrows quirking up.  
"Oh, an earthquake couldn't wake her." Yaz shook her head, voice dry, "It didn't, actually, when we had one a few years ago. Don't worry." she shook her head.

The Doctor's hand was shaking.

Her dark eyes flickered over it. She had a spoon, starting to stir her tea as she poured the water in; it rattled, just a little, against the sides of the mug. Automatically moving closer, she kept her eyes fixed on those pale digits. The kettle was put down, thankfully, but -   
"Doctor?"  
"Mm?"   
"Are you okay?"  
Her eyes were drawn back to the bright face, eyes too sparkly, smile too wide. There was a crawling feeling of discomfort, prickling up Yaz's back. The same feeling she got whenever a perp was about to swing at her. Something was going to go wrong.   
Policewoman's instinct.

"Oh, I'm fine, Yaz! You know me." she dumped in an ungodly amount of sugar, and the rattle got louder as she stirred. Shoulders were starting to hunch and Yaz stepped closer, still, fixated on her face. "I'm always fine."  
"Doctor - "   
She let go of the spoon. Yaz peered into that pale face, starting to notice the depths of the shadows, the angle of her cheekbones - gaunt. She didn't look right.

"I'm fine! Yaz, honest, just a good ... good cuppa'll sort me right out -" both hands braced on the counter. Yaz reached out a hand, noticing the droop of her head, hair hanging forward - longer than it had been last time, brushing lower than her shoulders now.   
"How long's it been for you, Doctor?" she whispered. There was no response.   
Instinct kicked in and Yaz stepped in as the Doctor's eyes rolled back, her legs went limp and she pitched towards the floor like a rag doll.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the great response guys! Gonna try to keep a schedule with this. It was meant to be a shortfic and I'm already at seven chapters, whoops.

  
She didn't weigh much. That was the first thought that actually made it through Yaz's shell-shocked brain. The Doctor was tiny, of course, but - she just - didn't seem to weigh what a normal human should weigh. Especially considering just how many extra organs the alien seemed to have? But Yaz supported her, sinking slowly to the floor, bracing her. Moving her slowly, letting the training kick in. Recovery position? She didn't seem to be seizing -

"Yaz?" a foggy mumble, but so much relief flooded through her. A tiny laugh shook it's way from her throat.  
"I gotcha, doctor, I gotcha." she said, gently, moving her arms - shifting around, almost in a hug. The Doctor moved, her hand gripping onto Yaz's shoulder. "Here we go, okay. Stay with me. Gonna get you up. Take your time." the training was kicking in, thank God, the experience with the force on her side. 

It was strange, how sluggish she seemed to be moving. Yaz wrapped an arm around her waist, bracing, lifting - the Doctor's arm slung around her shoulder to hang on. After a little wiggling, the Doctor's legs were under her. There was a moment, of hesitation - the bedroom or the sofa? Sofa was closer. Less comfortable, but far easier.  
"One step at a time." she said, gently, and the Doctor nodded. This close, the deep shadows on her face were oh so clear, and Yaz felt a rising nausea at how much she'd missed.

The sofa seemed a thousand miles away, but they reached it. Yaz was taking more and more of the Doctor's weight with every step, and a new noise reached her ears, on high alert. The Doctor's breathing was strained. It was subtle, just a hint of a wheeze, but for someone who ran so much ... that was alarming.   
Finally she let the alien flop onto the sofa. She sat heavy, head sinking a little -   
"Lay back. Wait - let's get this off you -" she moved to the lapel of the Doctor's coat, and a hand came up, wrapping around hers with surprising strength.  
"No." the Doctor breathed. "No, it stays on."  
"Doctor -"  
"Don't ... fight me on this, please, Yaz. It stays on." spooked, Yaz drew back and nodded, as the Doctor flopped onto the cushion Yaz had been sleeping on not so long ago. Her eyelids flickered, as if she was struggling to stay awake.

"What happened to you?" she whispered, a little breathlessly, meeting hazel eyes with her deep ones. "Doctor, how long has it been?"  
"I don't know." she murmured, "Could do with that cuppa, though."  
Yaz jumped up, with a nod, moving away and picking the hot drink up, coming back over.  
"I'm not letting you drink this laying down." she said, softly. "So you can sit up and take it slow, or you can sleep."  
The Doctor frowned, and then nodded, letting Yaz help her back up. She held the drink with both hands, Yaz staying knelt on the floor as she took a sip. It took everything the young officer had not to reach up and support it, seeing just how badly her hands were shaking.

"Doctor -"  
"I don't know." she repeated, more forcefully. "I've been - alone. For a long time, Yaz, and when you're alone, you forget how long it's been." she swallowed a gulp of her tea and shut her eyes, grateful at the rush of caffeine, sugar, just what her drained system needed. She looked up, and Yaz wasn't fast enough to hide her look of mixed horror and worry. 

"Well." clearing her throat, Yaz shifted how she was sitting, looking up at the Doctor's face. "It's been six months. For us." the Doctor shut her eyes, and nodded a little. Her shoulders drew in a little more, around her drink. "I finished my probation, at last. Full and real police officer, now." she smiled, looking at the warm, natural smile that spread over the Doctor's lips.  
"Officer PC Khan." she murmured. "Keeping the world safe, yeah?"  
"Well, I'm still mostly on parking disputes." she admitted. "But - yeah." a faint chuckle. The Doctor grinned right back, lowering her half empty cup.

"Graham, he spends a lot of time at the other house. The TARDIS house, the one - the survivors." she said, gently. and the Doctor relaxed a little more. Her eyes stayed shut. "Actually, he's - really close with them, now. Been teaching them how to live here. They have - a lot to learn. But they have that TARDIS, so it's not like they have to worry about rent or water or food. They're - so happy." she paused. "Some issues, obviously. With PTSD. Things like that. We're working on getting them some - real help. But they can't exactly go spouting about Cybermen..." 

The Doctor let out a non-commital hum. Yaz reached out to take the half-empty cup.  
"Doctor. Lay down?" it was a gentle request. And she gave in, laying down again, grimacing just a little. Yaz moved to grab the blanket, draping it over her.   
"Get some sleep, yeah? Please?" the Doctor's eyes flickered open, looking at her then - hesitantly - she reached out. Yaz took her hand, holding it firmly.  
"Yasmin Khan." she whispered, with a tiny smile. "I'm so proud of you. You know that? So proud." then she sighed, and settled back into the sofa.

Yaz didn't know how to feel. She swallowed hard, holding onto the hand until the Doctor's grip loosened. She could think of a handful of times she'd seen the Time Lord rest, and all of them had been when she'd been slumped on the console chairs. She'd jumped up, every time she was disturbed, immediately ready to go. Not this - looking so... fragile. It wasn't a word she had ever attributed to the Doctor before, but right now, it seemed right.

Time slipped away. Yaz got her laptop, muting it and watching a show muted, just the subtitles. Her eyes kept flickering to the Doctor, sleeping away. The hand still hung over the side of the sofa, and there was that curiousity ... why hadn't she let Yaz take her coat? Surely, that couldn't be comfortable? And then there was the wheeze... she sunk into googling symptoms, but she couldn't shake the idea that none of these - sometimes terrifying - things could apply, because her friend wasn't human.

At 6am, she looked out at the lightening sky outside, uncertain. Then picked up her phone, firing off a text to the little whatsapp group they had. It had quietened a lot, in the last few months, as they let themselves live life. A normal life, near enough. No aliens, no running.   
God, she never thought she would miss the running.

"No -" the moan was so soft, she thought she'd imagined it. Even with her senses on high alert, Yaz jerked her head around, peering at the Doctor. Her nose had crinkled, hands tightening on nothing, and there was just a slight hitch in her voice. "No. No, no -"  
"Doctor?" she whispered, feeling horror rising in her throat.  
"No, please, please, not again, please -" a tear. A single tear, making it's way from under her lashes. That sense of unease was back, that deep nausea in her chest. Something was wrong. Sitting on her knees, Yaz gently shook the Doctor's shoulder.  
"Doctor. Doctor, wake up. Please -"

A ragged gasp, eyes bolted open - she saw a flicker of tiny pupils and then - pain. A hand, tightening around her throat, air gone, hands scrabbling at the strong, slender grip. A fraction of a second extended into minutes before the Doctor released her and pulled away, arms jerking into her chest.  
"Yaz, Yaz, I'm sorry, I'm so - I panicked -"  
She was gasping, great lungfuls of air, and tears suddenly stung her eyes. Not even the pain, but the shame, the shock of it. Her hand came to her neck, where the grip had been, as the Doctor pulled herself back. She drew her legs up to her chest, hands clinging onto them, eyes fixed on Yaz's face.

"What happened - to you?" Yaz rasped. She swallowed hard, rubbing at her neck.   
"I've been in prison." the words hung in the air.  
"What?"  
"I - survived." she didn't want to talk about this, she didn't. "I escaped, and then - I got arrested." she barked a laugh that didn't sound anything like her. "It took me this long to get out, and I - I came here." she reached and slowly rolled back her sleeves, revealing awful bruises, scratches, running up her pale arms. Yaz stared at them, unable to believe what she was seeing. "Took some of my best genius, honestly, Yaz. It was great." she tried to smile, but the wind was knocked out of her.

Eyes widened, arms moving slowly, wrapping her arms around Yaz. Then digging her hands into the shoulders, clinging tighter, melting into the grip. Tears ran, and neither of them questioned the other's need to cry, as Yaz tried to ignore just how sharp those shoulders were.


	4. Chapter 4

  
"Sonya won't be awake until about two in the afternoon. She sleeps in." Yaz said, ignoring the tender feeling in her neck where the Doctor's fingers had dug into it. Worry was setting in, proper worry. She looked at the way the Doctor sat, curled up on the sofa - and her phone pinged. Then again. She picked it up and peered at the message - Graham. Not a surprise, that he was up early... but it was disbelief.   
Then an invitation.

She looked at the Doctor, who had picked up her cold tea and was sipping it, then towards the doors... it would be better if they weren't here. If Sonya woke up, and then told their parents about the fact she'd had the Doctor on the sofa overnight ... yeah, no.  
"Doctor?" the hazel eyes flickered up. "Graham's asked if we want to go there. He has a spare room... you could get some proper sleep."  
"I'm fine. I'm all rested up." she said, lightly.   
"Well, we should go over, anyway. See how he's doing?" she suggested. The Doctor paused, then nodded, unfolding herself slowly from the sofa, standing something like her previous height. Yaz had never considered how tall she was, before - shorter than her, in fact. But - she always stood with such presence, she looked taller. Right now ... the Doctor looked small. Yaz didn't like that.

"Alright, come on. Take it slow, if you need to, Doctor." she said, softly now. She swallowed and felt the pressure on her throat again, reaching up to subconsciously rub the marks. Catching a shamed glance, she let her hand fall away again. A smile rose to her face, covering, and the Doctor mimicked.   
Ignoring the pang of recognition, Yaz swallowed hard, "I'm going to get changed. Won't be a minute." she nipped off to her room. When she came back, the Doctor was tapping on her laptop. Without an apology for the invasion of privacy, she got to her feet, and moved to Yaz's side. Just a little more like herself, at least.

The journey felt an age and also only a few minutes, all at once. Reaching Graham's house, she knocked; there were lights on, a warm square of buttery yellow light. But the Doctor's eyes were on the sky, the sunrise painting it in streaks of pinks, pale blues, golds and hints of purple ... a kind of wonder as her pale face was gilded. Yaz followed her eyes and smiled just a little.   
"I always love sunrise. Never used to, when I was younger. But when I started training, and I had to get up at the crack of dawn every day, I started to appreciate it."   
"Always appreciate dawn, Yaz. A new day. Always a wonderful thing." she leant into the gentle breeze. "And being outside. You don't realise how much you appreciate the atmosphere until it's gone." 

Unsure how to respond to that, Yaz knocked on the door. Graham threw it open, dressed, and paused. His eyes went to the Doc, who smiled gently at him. Mouth and eyes widened a little, before he stepped back.   
"Come on in." he murmured. Yaz led the way, and when he shut the door gently behind them, his eyes remained fixed. The Doctor paused, looking around.  
"Have you redecorated?"  
"Ah, little bit. Not too much." he said, "I started - fixing the place up a little more. Getting through the list of chores Grace left. Y'know." he cleared his throat, "Let me make you a cuppa, yeah?"

Yaz shook her head. "Can I get some juice?"   
"Oh, sure, yeah."  
"Tea for me!" it was almost as bright as she used to be, and Yaz found herself smiling, looking around at the bright-eyed Doctor with hands deep in her coat pockets. More natural, that was better - how she should look. A wave of guilt crashed over Yaz, evaporating her smile. How selfish. She bit her lip, looking away as they headed into the kitchen and the Doctor plonked herself down at the table, hands on the wooden top.

"Actually, Graham, I know it's early, but you don't mind if I make some breakfast, yeah?" he looked at her in surprise, and her eyes darted to the Doctor and then back.   
"Oh, uh, yeah, no problem, yeah. There's some eggs and bacon in the fridge, bread in the - bread-bin." he nodded, moving to make tea, pointing things out to her. The Doctor stayed seated, smiling, eyes flickering between the pair of them. Yaz spoke very lowly, trying to cover her words with the sounds of moving pans and closing doors.   
"There's something wrong with her, something she's not telling me."  
"Like what?"   
"Listen to her breathing, if you can. She's hurt. And she's been - through something. I don't know." Graham nodded and stepped away, taking the Doc her cup of tea and sitting down almost opposite her.

"I sent Ryan a message, but nothing wakes that boy up, honestly." the Doctor laughed, taking the cup of tea and having a long sip, smacking her lips with a satisfied ahh.   
"Good cuppa." she raised her cup, nodding, and Graham chuckled lowly. Yaz moved around, and soon the pan was sizzling, the smell of bacon and eggs filling the air. The toaster hummed, and she settled into the easy pattern of cooking.  
"Graham, you know I don't eat bacon, you'll have to tell me how you like it."  
The Doctor took a moment to put her head in her hands. The smells in the air were turning her stomach. She breathed out slowly through her mouth, not sure why it was making her want to throw up -

Yaz's hands were slick with butter - her grip on the second pan failed. It slipped through her fingertips, and hit the ground with a crash that made Graham startle.  
But the noise that turned their heads was the smashing of a chair onto the ground.  
The Doctor scrambled backwards, until her back hit the wall. Head sunk into hands, fingers clawing into hair, clinging to herself. Her breathing hitched and caught, racing away, body curling into itself.  
"Graham, stay back." Yaz said, quickly, as he stood - she moved across the space and crouched, peering at the Doctor but not touching.   
"Doctor? Are you in there?" she whispered. "You're safe. You're safe here, I promise." the sunken feeling in her stomach was back. She knew what this was. God, she knew what this was, and the very idea was shredding everything she knew about the Doctor. "Just breathe. Breathe with me, Doctor, please. Please." 

The urge to cry really wasn't helping anything, either.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ? can't even begin to thank everyone enough for their incredible feedback. Thank you all so very much, I'm hoping that I'll keep regular updates until it's done!
> 
> Things only get more triggering from here though.

  
Fifteen minutes.

She counted them. It felt like each one was an hour.

Fifteen minutes before the Doctor would respond. Graham knew a little, of course, from helping the survivors of the Cyberwar, all of them so deeply damaged and so very alone in this vast, past world.   
But the Doctor stayed curled into her ball, with Yaz whispering, gently, talking her down; Graham using his phone with trembling fingers, summoning resources he'd used before.

It was the grounding method, in the end, that worked.   
"Put an icecube in your mouth." Yaz suggested. The Doctor's eyes moved. "Graham, can you -"  
"On it, love." he returned a second later, and Yaz held the ice cube out. Slowly, stiffly, the Doctor took it, fingers trembling, and put it in her mouth.  
She watched as her eyes came alive.  
"Can you talk? It's okay if you can't, Doctor. You're here." she didn't touch, remembering the hand on her neck.

"If you can, list what you can see. Focus on the ice, focus on the room. Anything that's real."  
"Table." she mumbled, a little thickly.  
"Good, good. Any details?"  
"S'wood. Four legs. Nice colour. Scratches - scratches on the leg - "  
"Oh, yeah, that was my fault." Graham murmured, "Caught it on the hinges on the door -"  
"Was Grace mad?"  
"Oh, she said it was just an old thing from IKEA, it didn't matter. Items are replacable, she said." he smiled a little.

Yaz had felt a wave of relief flood through her at the question, sitting back on her heels.   
The time had stretched for so long, so very, very long. She'd never seen anything like it. The eyes wide, the racing breath - god, that wheeze, it was so loud now - the grip so tight her knuckles had gone white on her legs. And frozen, as if a block of ice had sealed around the Doctor. A panic attack, perhaps - it was hard to tell, with her. But - 

"How do you feel?"  
"Tired. I don't like it, much. How do you humans cope feeling like this all the time?" her voice comes out reedy, but it's the Doctor. Yaz wants to hold her again, but something makes her hold back.   
"Doctor, you had - you had a panic attack." she said, gently.   
"No, doesn't sound like me." the Doctor objected, clearing her throat, with a shaky smile as she unfolded her limbs and stood, a little shaky.   
"Doc..." Graham looked pretty frightened, too. "I know what a panic attack looks like, love, and you just had a doozy of one."  
A doozy? Yaz mouthed at him, and he shrugged helplessly.   
"Oh, I feel fine, now. Where's that breakfast?"  
"Oh, it's ... burned to a crisp." Graham mumbled. He'd turned the pan off, but it had been far too late for the blackened bacon and incinerated eggs. The Doctor made a face, but she was - somewhat grateful.

"Cereal, then. Or toast?" Yaz suggested, "The toast's fine. Little cold." she plucked it from the toaster. The Doctor hesitated. Half of her wanted it but the other half of her was writhing, sickeningly, in her stomach.   
"Don't suppose you have any biscuits?" she asked, "Tummy's a bit funny, I think." 

"I don't know if I have anything you like ..." Graham moved and dug in the cupboards, finally coming out holding a packet of biscuits. "I have these?" he suggested, "Still in date." he held out the packet of ginger nuts towards her. For just a moment, she hesitated, before reaching out to wrap her hands around them. "Might've been Grace's, thinking about it. God, she loved her ginger. If you hadn't been unconscious the first time you came here, she probably would've force-fed you ginger cake." he chuckled a little. "Yeah. I do miss that..."  
"Did she write the recipe down?" Yaz asked, quietly, "Maybe you and Ryan could make it."  
"Maybe." he said, without sincerity in his tone. It would never be the same, not really.

The Doctor had taken the packet and opened it, holding one of the biscuits in her fingertips. The smell of the ginger curled in her nostrils before she took a cautionary bite. Not much in there, really, as strong as they smelt, surely mostly artificial? She glanced at the Contains real ginger! slogan on the packet, and bit off a little more. When the first biscuit was gone, there was just a hint of a warm fuzziness. It made her feel ... better. The pain in her chest died down a touch, and slender fingertips sought out a second. 

Yaz frowned. To her mind, that wasn't food, but the Doctor was unlike them and if she'd been locked up like she said, well...   
"Do you want to tell Graham what ... happened to you?" Yaz asked, gently, and the Doctor almost startled.  
"I'd prefer to tell you all at once, if I can." she broke the biscuit into pieces, whilst she spoke, needing to keep her hands occupied. "It's a - bit of a long story and I don't want to relive in more than I have to."

Graham and Yaz shared a glance then nodded.  
"Fair play, Doc." Graham said, before picking up a piece of the cold toast and nibbling on a corner of it. "I take it it's - been bad, then? I mean, we thought you was dead, if I'm honest, and -"   
"Graham." there was a hint of frustration in the Doctor's tone. "I promise you I'll explain, but please. A little patience." her voice was uncharacteristically low. Yaz reached out, instinct taking over, and rested her hand on the Doctor's wrist.   
She moved back, jolting, as if startled - Yaz pulled her hand away and held her glass of juice, feeling guilt roll over her in a wave.

The Doctor picked up another biscuit and started to nibble along the edge.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all're honestly giving me life right now, I love you and your comments all so much.

  
By the end of the third biscuit, there was a fogginess in her head. She wasn't sure whether it was the lack of food for so long, or just how long it had been since she'd had anything with ginger. It was a nice buzz, pulling away the thoughts in her brain that kept threatening to destabilize everything. She could feel it now, every time they looked at her - pity. God, she hated pity, hated it with a raw passion. She was the Doctor, she saved the world, and she was fine.

Graham and Yaz's conversation faded into the background. She caught herself focusing on the grain on the table, running her fingertips over them, completely lost in it.  
"Doctor. Doctor?" the words floated through her and she lifted it with a little smile, seeing the concerned faces staring at her. "You've been staring at the table for almost ten minutes, are you okay?" Yaz asked, knowing it was a stupid question.  
"Yeah. I'm fine."  
"Doc, you just had a hell of a panic attack." Graham said, softly, "You're allowed to not be fine, you understand that, right?" he frowned. "Ravio - the survivors you sent back - they've been dealing with a lot, too, y'know. I've been learning a lot. To help 'em out, y'know?"

The Doctor found herself smiling at him, the warm ginger in her chest giving her a sense of wellbeing.   
"I'm proud of you, Graham O'brien. I think Grace would be, too." she said, brightly. Yaz smiled and nodded, agreeing.   
"We were just saying - Ryan's on his way here." she said, gently, "He finally got his butt out of bed." she shook her head with a sigh, "But - anyway. He should be here soon. Then you can tell us what's going on?" she suggested. The Doctor grimaced, but nodded slowly.

"When Ryan gets here," she said, softly, "I'll tell you - what I can. There's some things I can't ... tell you." she admitted, rubbing at her eyes, shoulders hunching. She missed the glance that Yaz and Graham shared. "Things even I don't understand, I'm sorry. You all know I trust you." she swallowed hard, holding her cold tea mug again. Her eyes flickered over the ginger biscuits, and she forced her gaze again. The ginger humbugs she'd been using before she was taken away had been long since swiped from her pocket.

How much did she trust them? How much would she tell? The incredible, impenetrable woman from so far away... Yaz bit her lip, looking at her juice, taking another sip of the tart liquid. She was feeling the fatigue from helping, staying up all night, but - it didn't matter. The Doctor was back, if damaged. And God - how damaged was she? The sound of a pan falling had twisted her into a fifteen minute panic attack. There was no way Yaz was letting her fly the TARDIS, not in this state, not a chance.

They settled into something close to a comfortable silence as they waited for Ryan. It didn't take long for Yaz to notice the Doctor's eyes glazing again, thumb twitching spasmodically, stroking the ceramic of her mug. As if she was just - checking out. She looked at Graham again and cleared her throat, getting up and moving to wash up the mess she'd made of the breakfast. Every time a plate clattered or knocked, the Doctor winced just slightly, and Graham resisted the urge to reach out and comfort her. Yaz had warned him against touch, but hadn't explained why, and he wasn't sure on that, either. Despite everything, Graham trusted Yaz. She was such a bright young woman, and she had great instincts. They'd all grown so close with the Doctor, and the damaged light in front of him was responsible for an awful lot of terrible feelings right now.

When the doorbell rang, the Doctor startled.   
"Intruder alarm?" she mumbled.  
"S'just Ryan." Graham said, getting up and letting him in. Ryan's eyes sought the Doctor out, and he moved across the space. Before Yaz could warn him otherwise, he'd pulled her up and into a tight hug, trapping her in his arms.  
For a moment, the room held it's breath.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for the support! The angst is just gonna keep on coming.

  
Breathe.  
She can't. Arms around her, too tight.  
Breathe.  
It hurts. The last time she fought, and he pinned her by the throat and -   
Breathe.

She can't breathe.  
She doesn't know what happens next.

"Doctor! Doctor!" the voice comes through foggily. Her head snaps up. What was she doing? Her hands - they ached, throbbed, where she'd been cuffed. She was looking at the floor. Why was she looking at the floor? Cold rolled through her and she backed up until she hit the wall, staring. Ryan. He was on his back on the floor, catching his breath. Yaz and Graham pulled him up as the Doctor slid slowly to the ground. The lad looked puzzled, wide-eyed as he rubbed the back of his head.

"Ryan." her voice came out strangled. They were looking at her with such fear - the sensation of nausea rose again and she swallowed spasmodically, resisting the urge to heave up the biscuits she'd forced down.   
"Ryan, I'm sorry. I -"  
"What was that about?" he mumbled, "I know you ain't a hugger but that's a bit far."  
"Used to be. Used to be a hugger, Ryan, I'm so sorry." her arms wrapped slowly around herself, trying to hold herself together again.   
"You was screaming." he said, softer now. Yaz glanced up at him, at his blatant honesty. "You screamed for me to get off you whilst you body-slammed me. Didn't know you were so strong, Doctor." he tried to smile, but it was clear they were all shaken.

"Ah, yeah. Took a - few lessons from the Venusian Monks back in the day, y'know. Generally - all about self protection." she murmured. "Ryan, I'm so sorry."  
"Nah, Doctor, it's okay. I'm wide awake now." he chuckled, taking it pretty easily, but the fear in his eyes was so clear.   
"So, Doctor, now that you've flipped my grandson and probably given him a concussion -"  
"Graham-!" hissed Yaz, and was ignored.  
" - you mind telling us what the hell is going on? Because I feel pretty blind right now and I'm really not a big fan of that."

The Doctor nodded, slowly. She moved hesitantly to the table. Yaz sat, tugging Ryan to sit next to her. But they moved away a little, and rarely had the Doctor felt so isolated, despite all of them being in arm's reach. 

"I went to detonate the death particle." she murmured. "Ko Sharmus - came. Took it off me. Told me to run." she exhaled slowly. "I got into a TARDIS, just in time. I came - home. I was about to come for you." she swallowed hard. "I - I was going to. Honestly. And then I - I got taken. To prison. Stormcage, the most secure prison in the universe." her hands started to shake again. "It was - awful." her shoulders curled in again. "I was in isolation. Except for when they came to - interrogate me."   
She shivered, and Yaz's eyes widened, seeing the way the Doctor's hands tightened on the table.

"Doctor -"  
"I don't know how long they kept me there. I was in a white room."  
"White room?" Graham mumbled, puzzled.  
"It's a torture technique." Yaz's throat felt dry. "They never turn the lights out. White light, all the time, completely alone. It can drive people insane in - in days."  
"Good thing I'm tough." the Doctor responded, and her hands tightened. There was a short smile, although it didn't touch her eyes. "It didn't matter. I - there were ... bad days. But I kept thinking of you guys. I came up with a plan." her throat bobbed.

"There was one guard. Came to ... see me. Quite a lot." she cleared her throat. "I guess he liked me."  
"Doctor.." Yaz breathed it, and she ducked her head just slightly. The lads glanced at each other, lost, but the Doctor forged on, not explaining.  
"I waited. And when he came, I - I escaped. I got out. Stole a ship." she smiled, "Took out half the security systems with me, actually. Too busy dealing with a jailbreak to notice I was gone."  
"How long was you there?" Ryan asked, softly.  
"I don't know." she murmured. "A long time, I think. We're good at time, I mean - Time Lords. Time sticks in our head, I can - taste where I am, usually. But not in Stormcage. Psychic filter all over the place. From what I can figure ... at least a year."  
"How often did the guard - "  
"Once a week. Usually. They were on a rotation." her throat bobbed and her eyes shut. Yaz reached out, but the Doctor jerked away.  
"Better not to touch me right now, Yaz, sorry. Not sure how my body will respond to the threat." she whispered, hands tucked into her lap.

An awkward silence fell. Yaz knew that Graham and Ryan hadn't understood, but she felt sick to her stomach, looking a the Doctor's face. All the pain there, that cold disconnection ...   
What had they done to her? 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna be a bit of a sharp turning point for the angst. Be cautious, be aware of the tags. Please.

  
"Right." practicality time. That was what she was good at, had gotten better at since she came back. Compartmentalising and being - practical. Yaz looked at the Doctor easily and stood up. Despite the way the Doctor had nearly suffocated her earlier, Yaz was well aware that she'd responded best to her touch. There was something that needed to be done, and she was going to do it.

"How long have you been back?"  
She swallowed hard. "I got back onto the TARDIS and flew here." the Doctor mumbled, "Straight here. To your door. I - wasn't sure how long I was going to hold out." her head ducked at admitting that. Yaz nodded, slowly, as thoughts coalesced, confirmed... and reached out a hand.   
"You need a shower." she said, softly. The Doctor hesitated, then reached out, fingers gripping ahold of Yaz's palm. Good, okay. Putting aside the sensation of how cold the Doctor felt, she tugged her up.

"Graham, can we -"  
"Go ahead." he responded, instantly. "You know where everything is."  
She led the Doctor through to the bathroom, and Yaz paused, opening a cupboard to tug out a big, fluffy towel, before gesturing the Doctor through into the small bathroom.  
"Why d'you -"  
"Spent a lot of time here." Yaz said, softly, "When we first came back. It was hard to adjust. This was like - a safehouse. I think all of us have slept in that spare bed at some point." she gave a tiny smile, and the Doctor mimicked.

"I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to." she put the towel aside, letting go of the Doctor's hand as she sunk to sit on the edge of the toilet - lid down, of course - "You don't have to tell me anything you - can't face, Doctor, because I know trauma is this - all-encompassing thing and it's hard." Yaz's throat bobbed and the Doctor smiled at her.  
"When did you get so good at emotional speeches?" she mumbled, prompting a soft chuckle from Yaz.  
"Learned from the best." she whispered. "But, seriously, Doctor -"  
The Time Lord took a deep, juddering breath, grimacing and nodding slowly.   
"No, I understand, Yaz." her throat bobbed. "It's - this is - new. For me. There's a lot I learned, in Stormcage and I'm still knitting my brain back together." her pale fingertips caught ahold of the fabric of her coat, rubbing it carefully, and Yaz made note of the grounding technique.

"Can I tell you a story?" she sat her back against the side of the bathtub, looking at the Doctor, catching the very slight nod.   
"I'm a real police officer now. They've been putting me on the night shift. One of my first - fully fledged shifts was the night shift. You see a lot of awful things, Sheffield on a Friday night." she shifted her legs until she could rest an elbow on her knee, looking at the floor rather than at the Doctor, to take the pressure off a response. "Drunk people, fights, awful lot of blood's spilt. But the thing I remember, the most ... there was this girl. Year younger than me, at the most." Yaz's voice cracked just a little, and the Doctor lifted her head slightly. "She was down the side of an alley. Shaking like a leaf. I don't know why..." she took a deep breath. "I got this urge to check on her, and my boss said she was just drunk but I knew it was something worse. And the second I spoke to her, she collapsed. She was just - sobbing."

There was a moment, the Doctor's muscles tensed, holding onto the edge of her coat still as Yaz slowly exhaled.   
"It was her best friend. He'd gotten drunk, called her a tease. She was - bruised everywhere, and shaking. All I wanted to do was help. We took her to the station and she was - she was terrified. All she wanted to do was forget it happened. And I didn't realise how awful it is." Yaz swallowed hard, feeling the sting of salt water in her eyes. "The process they have to go through. She'd been through something so - unforgivable, and we made us tell her all of it. To go to testing, all these questions." Yaz swallowed and looked down at the ground. "I mean... I get it. I'm young, I'm a woman, I'm not white." a short laugh escaped her, forced. "Plenty of - threats, y'know." 

"Has anyone ever -"  
"No." Yaz responded quickly. "They've tried. I've had plenty of people grab me, but I've always been - lucky. Colleague nearby, or - my baton, or spray. But I know it's likely to happen." quiet fell over the space, just the Doctor's soft, wheezy breathing.   
"Do you trust me?" Yaz finally whispered, looking over again. The Doctor had hunched her shoulders in, staring at the floor, but the hazel eyes moved up to meet hers. And ever so slightly, she inclined her head. 

The agreement hung in the air. Sluggishly, limbs moved; pushed herself upright, bracing just a little, and started to slide her coat off. Yaz pulled herself up, too, holding out an arm to receive it. What she had expected, Yaz wasn't sure. There were bruises, all up her arms; not just around her wrists, although that was the focus, vicious welts were she had fought against cuffs, over and over again. Bruises, some in shapes Yaz didn't want to envision, creeping up, thinning at the elbow and thickening again closer to her shoulders. Then there were the scratches, a lot of them half-healed, the obvious crescent scrapes that could only be made - by nails.

"Doctor ..." she breathed, and the bob moved just a little as she shook her head, not wanting Yaz to speak. Draping the coat over the young woman's arm, the Doctor reached up to undo her braces. When they were unclipped she untucked her shirt, carefully pulling it off. Yaz noticed the depth of her collarbones, the way they stood out when they hadn't been so prominent before. That sick feeling was resting heavily on her now, as bare skin was revealed. The weight loss was more prominent here, but the thing that drew a sharp gasp was the bruising.

It resembled a nebula across her chest and stomach. Deep blues with purple and reddish blots, strange pale white dots. Yaz covered her mouth with a hand. They had to be broken. Surely. And then there was a ring of bruises, almost healed, that she could now see around the base of the Doctor's neck. Her breasts were held in a sports bra, although it was filthy, and Yaz didn't even want to know about the bruising there. The Doctor paused, after handing Yaz her shirt.  
"Humans are ... odd. About nudity. Right? You're - are you -"   
"No, it's okay, Doctor. All girls here, right?" she tried to joke. The Doctor smiled back, that same half smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, and let out a shaky breath.

She sat again, and undid her boots, tucking her socks into them, putting that aside. Wiggling her toes on the cold linoleum, the Doctor let out a slow, careful breath before standing and sliding off her ridiculous trousers.   
Yaz felt that familiar flood of ice in her veins, taking in the state of the Doctor's legs. She was wearing boxers, oddly enough, and for a moment that caught Yaz's attention until she saw - the bruising. Focusing on her thighs and hips, mostly, almost as deep in colour as the damage to her ribs. Eyes flickered back up, the Doctor stood there with an arm over her chest, holding to her arm on the other side; eyes focused pointedly on the side of the bathtub.

Yaz couldn't hold back the tears, not this time, letting them fall as she resisted the urge to hold the Doctor safe. Anger swelled, too, rage that she had gone through this, a fury that made her feel like fist fighting a monster.   
But she smiled, instead, gently.   
"Shall we get you in the shower?" she whispered, as the Doctor smiled back.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a Yaz chapter!

  
Outside the door, Yaz cried.

The sounds of the shower were a soothing backdrop as she let the tears fall, until she was almost gasping with it. She could hear Ryan and Graham talking lowly in the next room, but the image of the bruises - she was sure those would never leave her head. And the ribs - the damage the Doctor had gone through - Yaz allowed herself this. When her tears settled and her breathing eased, wiping her face, she moved off into the spare room, digging - there. The soft, cheap pyjamas she'd bought for when she was staying here. Back in the days when they thought the Doctor was dead.

She wasn't sure how well they'd fit. But they were clothes, and she'd taken the Doctor's other clothes to wash them, able to smell the sweat on them. Gently opening the door, but not looking, she placed them down next to the towel, before pulling the door to. She left - a gap, just a tiny gap. Just in case, she thought to herself; just in case. Then she headed back into the lounge, pausing, looking at the lads.

"She's hurt pretty bad." she said, softly. Graham stood up and tugged her into a hug, and Yaz collapsed into him, hanging onto the older man desperately as he rubbed her shoulders. All the stress, all the awful things she'd seen, it all weighed down on her as she let some of that out. Graham helped her sit, and she sniffled, wiping at her face.  
"Did she say what happened?" Ryan asked, softly.   
"No." Yaz mumbled. "Not really, but she - showed me some of the injuries." she hesitated, not sure if it was her place to say, because she'd asked the Doctor for trust...   
"Prison's an awful place." Graham said, softly, and Yaz nodded.   
"Did they beat her up?" Ryan asked, quietly now.  
"Worse than that. So much worse. She definitely has broken ribs, there might be - other injuries, it's hard to tell. I'm not a doctor." Yaz whispered. 

"Poor Doc." Graham murmured, and Ryan nodded.  
"I'm gonna try to see if I can't get her to rest properly. She had a kip at my place but she needs more. And she's lost - a lot of weight." Yaz murmured. "We're gonna have to try to get her to eat something more substantial than just biscuits."  
"What the hell was with her grabbing me like that?" Ryan asked, "Back of me head still smarts."  
"Trauma does weird things to people, son." Graham said, gently now. "She panicked. You should've seen the panic attack she had earlier."  
"She almost strangled me." Yaz felt their eyes turn to her. "I touched her when she was asleep and she - grabbed me. Let go as soon as she knew what she was doing, but -"

"Is she dangerous?" Ryan asked, softly. "I mean - should we be letting her stay here?"  
"It's the Doc, Ryan, don't be a muppet." Graham shook his head, "She's our friend, right, same as Ravio and the survivors. We have to -"  
"Ravio." Yaz muttered, and Graham frowned at her.   
"What about her?"  
"She's got PTSD. That's what we found out, she has post traumatic stress disorder -"  
"You think the Doctor has PTSD? Really?" Ryan's tone was dismissive enough that Yaz felt a flare of anger.  
"She's been in a white room for over a year, being assaulted every week, and you don't think that's enough for PTSD?"  
"Woah, slow down, Yaz, I was - she's what?" there was a pregnant pause before Yaz got up. The shower clunked off. 

"I'm going to check on her again." she said, softly, "You're not going to mention that unless she brings it up. Graham, can you put these in the wash?"  
"Yeah, yeah, of course," he accepted the handful of clothes as Yaz moved away again. Ryan swallowed hard before picking up his phone was shaking fingers, staring at it rather than thinking about what Yaz had just said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wonder if you guys have any thoughts about where the fic is going; what you might like to see happen?  
> Anyway, thank you all again for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

  
The way the clothes hung off the Doctor had made her feel sick all over again. She looked tiny, fragile, like she wasn't fully present. All that Yaz could think of was the PTSD. The way the Doctor had panicked, that hollow look in her eyes, all the awful things she couldn't talk about ... she handed Yaz the bra and boxers, before crossing her arms across her chest again, presumably to hide it.

"I'll get these washed for you." she said, putting them aside. "Come on, Doctor, you should lay down."  
"It's the middle of the day." the Doctor objected, and Yaz chuckled softly.  
"Time is relative. And you need more rest than you're letting on, Doctor." she said, gently now. "Please."  
She sighed, but let Yaz lead her into the box room. She sunk to sit on the edge of the bed, now, and it was comfortable. But the nightmares ... 

"Will you stay?" the words escaped the Doctor's lips unintentionally. She swallowed hard, not looking at Yaz, but she nodded.  
"Of course I will. I promise," she murmured, "Do you want me to wake you? If you - start having a nightmare? I'd rather not have you try to strangle me again." she tried to joke, but regretted it immediately at the pain in the Doctor's face. "Oh." she whispered. "Oh. That's - that's why you don't sleep, isn't it?"   
The way she curled away from Yaz confirmed it. Her legs drew up, tucking herself up against the headboard. She couldn't believe how long it had taken her to realise.

"Is it okay if I do some grounding techniques with you?" Yaz said softly. There was a pause, but the Doctor frowned, brow furrowing a little.  
"The ice cube. Why did you know to do that?"  
"Well," she swallowed hard, "Ravio, actually. Graham's been spending a lot of time there, like I said, but they're all ... they're very traumatised, Doctor. Living their whole lives in a warzone, all that. Me and Graham, we've been reading up on it." she frowned just a little, thoughtfully. She sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the Doctor's face. "It works on Ravio, when she's having a panic attack, and you were so far gone..." the Doctor turned her face away and Yaz sighed.

"Doctor. I know you're ancient. You've probably been through terrible, awful things, but - it's okay. You know that, right? You're allowed to - be traumatised. To feel this. I'll never judge you for that. I promise." the Doctor glanced up and gave her a tiny smile and a nod, her throat bobbing as she swallowed hard.   
"Thanks, Yaz. I know. Need a reminder, sometimes." she whispered. Yaz nodded again, wanting to reach out to her, but not sure how. If the Doctor had such a vicious response to being touched ... 

"Well, listen. You need to get your weight up a bit. I could count your ribs. And - I think you have at least a couple broken, judging by your breathing. Was that with -"  
"When I was escaping. I uh. Well. The guards did get ahold of me, but that wasn't too bad, used my wiles, got away." she gave a tiny smile, "Slipped and fell down a waste shaft. Landed pretty badly. But don't worry. Time Lord metabolism." or whatever she was. A low headache was starting to form, and she swallowed hard to push it back. "I'll be healed up completely in a couple day. Most of these bruises will be gone too." she murmured, and touched her neck subconsciously. "They would've been gone already but they got .. reinforced." she swallowed hard and Yaz felt her heart twist.

"Alright." she said, gently, "Listen, Doctor, can I make you a deal? I'll come in, I can bring - my laptop, or some books. And you can stay up, but you're gonna rest. And I'll get in a bunch of junk food, and you can eat it, and we'll hang out? Just us." she added, quickly. The Doctor hesitated, uncertain, looking at the wall in front of her. "The other option is we sit in silence." she added, a little softer now.   
A small smile graced the Doctor's lips.  
"Yeah, alright." she said, finally. "Can I have those ginger nuts?"   
"Of course." she got up, slowly, "I'm gonna - have to go home, though." she said, with a frown. "Get my laptop."   
She saw the way the Doctor stiffened.

"I won't be long, half hour at most." she said, quickly, "Will you be okay? I can send Graham in -"  
"Can I have your phone?" she startled.   
"Oh. Sure." she said, gently, and handed it over. "I won't be able to call you, though."  
"I'll be alright." she said, smiling and starting to type on it. "Just - the biscuits?"  
Yaz smiled, seeing it as a good sign she wanted to eat something. "Actually, Yaz, I'm - feeling a bit sick. Don't suppose you could pick up some ginger beer, too?" she gave Yaz a smile, and she nodded in response, smiling right back.  
Leaving the room, she snagged the biscuits off the side.

"Doc alright?" Graham asked, softly.  
"I'm gonna get some stuff to distract her." Yaz said, "She doesn't want to sleep so I'm gonna force her to relax at least a bit. I'll be back soon. Don't go in unless she asks for you." she told them, and Graham and Ryan nodded, unhappy though their faces were. She handed over the biscuits, the Doctor buried in the phone, and left; unable to shake that discomfort sitting so hard on her shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wuh oh.  
> Thank you for all the feedback


	11. Chapter 11

  
She was trying to be quick, heading back to her flat, zooming in. She packed up her laptop and then a few books she thought the Doctor might find interesting, some stories and some of her textbooks from Uni, not sure which would actually pique her curiousity. She was an oddity, the Doctor, and how would she work with that? When everything was packed into her work holdall, she paused before scrawling a quick note to Sonya saying she'd gone out for the day.

Remember what the Doctor said, she swung by the local shop, loading up on biscuits, snacks, mostly sweets - picking up a six pack of ginger beer, too. She wasn't surprised the Doctor felt unwell. Honestly, she had been fighting back the low sense of nausea this whole time, driving herself into getting this done rather than think about the ordeal the Doctor had been through. Bag now bulging, she made her way at a sharp clip to Graham's, opening the door which she'd left unlocked behind her.

Ryan was on the sofa, an arm over his face, snoring softly. Honestly. She fought the urge to roll her eyes, seeing Graham was in the kitchen, puttering around, apparently not knowing what to do with himself. He looked around and gave her a smile, although she could see just how tired Graham looked. She was pushing the sensation away to focus on the Doctor, on helping her.  
"Not a peep." he told her, without needing to be prompted, "Haven't even glanced in on her. But trust me, I wanted to." Yaz nodded.

Heading through, she tapped on the door before opening it. She wanted to make sure the Doctor was aware of her, as she pushed the door slowly, peering around the corner. The Doctor was pretty much in the same position she'd been in before, drawn up into the corner, tucked against the wall. Yaz's phone was in the hands resting on her legs, but her eyes were shut, slumped against the wall. Yaz smiled just a little, at the sight of the Doctor resting, putting down her bag. She headed back out, swiping a chair;   
"She's asleep." she told Graham softly, "I'm gonna keep an eye on her, okay?" he nodded.

Back in the room, she unpacked her laptop carefully, trying not to rustle the packets too much. The Doctor's head moved a little, drawing Yaz's attention, but she resisted the urge to reach out and comfort her. They'd learnt the hard way how the Doctor responded to things now. Instead she started her laptop up, keeping it muted, starting to do research, pulling up familiar pages - things she'd pulled up for Graham to use for Ravio. There was that feeling of nausea again, deep in her chest. Water. She needed water. Getting up, resting the laptop on her chair, she slipped out again.

The Doctor stirred, waking up with a sharp inhale, blinking woozily. She looked around at the room as her hearts calmed, noticing the bag on the floor. She wriggled towards it, starting to dig, as the door opened again and Yaz came back in. Hazel eyes flickered up, and she smiled just gently as Yaz's face split into a grin.   
"You're up? Hope I didn't wake you."  
"Nah. Wasn't asleep." she shrugged, ignoring the chuckle, digging in the bag, finding - ah, there it was. Cold metal. She pulled out the six pack, splitting it and just letting the others fall back in there, sitting back against the headboard.

"Thanks, Yaz." she cracked the top. The smell of ginger punched into the air, spicy-sweet, already heady. Good. She took a very small sip as it fizzed and danced. With her hunger and her lack of resistance after so long in the white room, even the biscuits had given her a buzz. But this - warmth flooded through her almost immediately, a tingle to the tip of her fingers. She remembered the hum-bugs. They'd complained about her bad mood, all the time, and that was how it had started. She was a happy drunk, after all, so the ginger lacing on them had been just enough to warm her up without being dangerous. Right now, she wanted more relief than just a tang on candy could do.

Taking another sip, there was a spike of guilt in her chest at this. That she had - fallen to this. And if she'd explained it to Yaz, she wondered if the young woman would possibly understand. Guilt and shame, such close bedfellows, and she took another sip. She needed to slow down. This was too fast.  
"What else did you bring me?" she asked, faux-bright, watching as Yaz put down the glass of water.  
"I wasn't sure what you liked, seeing as I've barely ever seen you eat," Yaz sighed, but she dug out what she'd gotten. The Doctor reached for the custard cream packet immediately with a grin, but it faltered as her stomach writhed.

She wasn't sure if it was the ginger or the thought of eating that was making her want to throw up. But the nausea was bad. She sipped at the ginger beer again, holding the can with both hands, resting the packet on her lap.   
"There's a few things, um, some jelly babies, sherbert lemons, chocolate raisings, snowballs..." she dumped the sweets on the top of the bed, "I was gonna order a pizza, maybe, like I say, I've only ever seen you eat junk."  
"Time lords don't need as much food as humans." she mumbled.  
"And when was the last time you ate a meal, Doctor? Or - anything? Were they starving you in that prison?" the words come out harder than she expected and the Doctor squeeze a hand around the can.

"No." she mumbled. "Well. Sometimes." she explained, slowly, "They drugged the food. To keep you - under control. I only ate when I had to. I couldn't - have any of it, for a few days. So that I was clear headed enough to fight my way out." her throat bobbed a few times. "The ginger's helping." she sipped at her drink again, feeling warm. A chuckle escaped her, smiling at Yaz, now. The ginger was making her whole body feel so much better, the pain easing off as her senses were dulled.   
"I'm fine, Yaz." she smiled, but Yaz's dark eyes were full of worry. "I'm the Doctor. I'm always fine."


	12. Chapter 12

  
Something was wrong with the Doctor.

Something more than she was letting on. More than the abuse, the pain in the lines of her body, the weight-loss. Because now she was laughing, smiling, full-force beam back in action, and to Yaz, it feels wrong. There's something wonky and off-kilter here, something that isn't adding up. And she doesn't think it's just giddiness over being safe, unless the Doctor's mind had changed so rapidly in such a short space of time.

She'd finished the first can of soda and started on a second; holding it tightly in her hand, in the middle of a story that changed, jumped, swung in circles and threatened to completely lose the point in more than one place. Yaz didn't even know how to begin breaking down - any of what the Doctor was saying. She was swinging her hands with more and more wild abandon, gesticulating wildly, the volume of her voice jumping and falling apparently at random. 

And she hadn't eaten any of the snacks. Yaz held off on ordering anything more savoury, looking at the uneaten packets around them. No - that was a lie. She shifted her laptop a little on her legs, looking over - the packet of ginger nuts was almost empty, just one lonely biscuit sitting there, spreading it's spicy crumbs across the bedside table. Her eyes flickered again to the can that was in her hand as she gestured, not able to figure out what was bothering her so very much about the Doctor's movements.

"Doctor," she said, when there was a pause in the story, slurping obnoxiously from her can. "Are you - feeling okay?" she tilted her head just a little, and there was that slightly wonky beam right back.  
"I feel great, Yaz. Glad to be here, with you. Glad to be out of that prison, away from those fucking - fuckin' - fuckers -" she burst into a bunch of giggles. "I don't normally swear, do I? Ooh, I like it. Fuck. Fuckity fucking fuck fuck wank bollock bastard. What's a good one? I normally gotta be all PG-thirteen bullshit." she burst into giggles and Yaz felt that sicky feeling again, realising what she was being reminded of.

The night shift. An interesting shift. And there was one long constant...  
"Are you - is this a delayed reaction? Did they drug you?" she put her laptop down and reached to take the Doctor's wrist, but she jerked away with a scowl.  
"No, no, no no no - Yaz, don't wanna hurt you, really don't." she mumbled, holding her can in both hands now, "I feel good, I feel fine! I'm great. Shall we grab Ryan and Graham? We can all hang out. Maybe we can go see, uh, go see, Ravioli. Mm, yeah."

Yaz's eyes narrowed a little more, looking towards her again, tilting her head just a touch. Something - drunk.   
She was acting drunk. But there was nothing alcoholic here, all she'd had was biscuits and soda. Admittedly she'd never seen the Doctor drink a fizzy drink before, so maybe ..   
"The caffeine hitting you?" she said, but frowned because tea had caffeine and she'd never seen the Doctor become this level of - weird - from tea before.

"What? Oh, no. I'm fine! I feel great! We should go out, adventure, why are we sitting here-?" she made to move and then stopped, exhaling sharply, grimacing. Yaz reached out, but hesitated, deciding against pushing. The Doctor sunk back without help, still clutching the ginger beer tight, taking another long drink of it then bursting into giggles.  
"I ever tell you that story about two Venusian monks and an Argonian that walk into a bar?"  
Yaz frowned.   
"What's happening to you?"  
"I'm in a good mood."  
"No. No, Doctor, I know you in a good mood, this is - this is weird. What's going on?"   
The Doctor interrupted with a hiccough, which became giggles, which set off more. She was unquestionably drunk. 

Yaz reached over and swiped the last ginger biscuit, not missing the way the Doctor's laughter stopped and her eyes followed with almost - jealousy? After she had finished the biscuit she stood, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom. Tell you what, I'll see if Graham and Ryan want one of these -" she reached out to grab the pack of ginger beer - and the Doctor's hand snapped out. Her long fingers wrapped hard around her, in an awful grip, and Yaz exhaled sharply.   
"Get off. You're hurting me." she said, trying to tug it back. The Doctor's eyes were foggy and yet focused in a terrifying way.   
"You can't take them."  
"Okay! Okay -!" she tried to pull away and the Doctor released her, but Yaz's heart was pounding in her mouth. "Jeez." she rubbed her wrist and left in a hurry, that sicky feeling back in her throat, sitting down heavily at the table after making sure to shut the door firmly.

"Yaz? What's wrong, cockle?" Graham asked. Ryan had at least woken up; he looked over from his phone, then moved over, lanky limbs unfolding, concern in his eyes.  
"The Doctor. Something's - really wrong."  
"We know that."  
"No, I mean she's - she's drunk, or high, or something. She nearly ripped my wrist off." Yaz's lip began to tremble as she stared at the table. "I'm making everything worse." she whispered, and a sharp inhale followed, "I can't - I don't know how to make her better. I don't know, and she's going to sweep everything under the table and pretend she's fine and she - she's not. She's not okay." the tears flooded and Yaz felt herself tugged by warm, sturdy hands, throwing herself into Graham's shoulder as she sobbed.

"Don't worry, love, don't worry." he said, gentle, rubbing her back. "If anyone can make her better, Yaz - it's you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aw jeez doc :( we're gonna get some softness soon, don't worry.


	13. Chapter 13

  
"Doctor?"   
She paused, in the doorway, looking in cautiously. The Doctor was curled in the corner of the bed, same as before. She was still hanging onto that can of ginger beer, and when Yaz spoke, foggy hazel eyes drifted up with a faint half smile.   
"Wondered if you wanted a cup of tea. All that sugar's bad for you?" she suggested, but the Doctor shook her head, apparently with a little difficulty. Yaz had expected it - tea was a gambit. It hadn't paid off, but that was okay. 

"You alright if I come in?"  
"Yaz, m'sorry." the words stop her in her tracks, one hand on the handle of the door, eyes widening just a touch.   
"M'sorry. You didn't deserve me doin - doin' that. Jus' - distractin' myself, y'know?" her accent was a lot heavier now, and Yaz was sure that she was right. The Doctor was riding high on something, and whilst she couldn't blame the alien for wanting to escape right now, her heart felt all twisty. 

"Doctor ... are you drunk?" she asked, soft now, shutting the door behind her and taking a few steps, perching on the edge of the bed. There was a long pause whilst the Doctor rubbed a thumb over the aluminium, and then she nodded, slowly.  
"S'ginger." she admitted, "Time lords or - or whatever I am - ginger's alcoholic to us." she mumbled. Yaz eyed the can but made no attempt to take it.  
"I guess it's a bit stronger, than alcohol -"  
"Yeah." she mumbled, "Helped ... helped clear my head."  
"Think it's doing the opposite of clearing your head, Doctor." she said, and couldn't help the slight crack in her voice, throat bobbing a little. 

The Doctor went quiet, looking away, squeezing the can until it made a low, metalic crackle.   
"I understand, y'know." Yaz murmured, looking away again. "Wanting to lose yourself in it. In alcohol. Saw plenty of my mates, doing that at uni. Drowning themselves rather than facing things. Fell into it myself, once or twice, until mum got some sense into my head." she shook her head a little. "Trauma does weird things to us, Doctor. I never thought ..." she stared at her hands then looked around again. "You're hurtin', Doctor, that's the thing, I can see how much you're hurting and I know - I know you've never let anyone in, but -"  
"No."  
Sidelined, Yaz stared at her as the hazel eyes flickered up, suddenly incredibly clear.

"I do let people in." slowly, she moved the can and put it aside. It was empty, when it clicked against the side, but Yaz didn't question that. "I did ... let people in. Over and over. And every time I watch them - get hurt. Or die. Or they leave, and it turns out - I ruined them. I'm selfish, Yaz, and I am selfish enough to keep doing this, over and over again, letting humans into my world - and watching as they lose. And I keep living." she shut her eyes and wrapped her arms around her chest. "Maybe I deserved -"

Yaz shot across the space. She knelt next to the bed now, reaching out, taking the risk to take the Doctor's hand. Eyes opened and her breathing quickened, but the Doctor didn't attack, Yaz's eyes fixed onto the young-yet-ancient features.   
"No. Don't you dare, Doctor." she felt the salt sting her eyes but kept them open. "You did not deserve any of this, okay? You may not be human, but you have just as much a right to make mistakes as we do." she squeezed the hand, hanging onto it, the Doctor's cool skin feeling like a lifeline even as her heart ached for what had happened. The Doctor looked away, and Yaz saw how her chest was hitching, jumping despite her attempts to keep the pain hidden.

"It's okay." she said, and stood up. This was - risky, this was very risky, but - she couldn't leave the Doctor alone, not right now. She kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the bed. The Doctor looked up, alarmed, as Yaz adjusted the pillows, sitting up a little.  
"If you want me to move, I will," she said, soft, "I'm not going to force you into anything, Doctor, and I'd really rather you didn't try to strangle me." she murmured, "It's amazing you're as sane as you are, with what you've been through. But I'm your friend. I'm your fam. Right?" and there was a tiny smile, and Yaz felt herself relax.  
Slowly, the Doctor began to unfurl herself from that tight corner. The smell of ginger rolled off her as she shifted back, slowly, until her shoulder touched Yaz.

Eyes shut, and she took a calming breath. Yaz resisted the urge to wince at that rasp, knowing there was nothing she could do for broken ribs. But the Doctor wriggled, tucking herself in closer, resting her head in on Yaz's shoulder. At first her eyes were fixed across the room, but slowly, slowly, Yaz felt the incremental relaxation as the Doctor settled. Maybe it was the ginger working it's way through her system, maybe she was actually helping, it was hard to tell. But the Doctor fidgeted for a few minutes before finding - some kind of comfortable position, tuckekd against Yaz. She kept her arms on the headboard, to make sure the Doctor didn't feel trapped, ignoring the vast discomfort. She felt when the Doctor relaxed into sleep, smiling just a little, and despite how uncomfortable she was right now ... exhaustion caught up with Yaz and she was dragged down too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of angst, time for a lil bit of soft ...   
> Also I think this fic is almost finished being written! We're looking at 30 chapters which is a wee bit bonkers to me but hey ho. Stick with it folks!  
> I would love any feedback you guys have, any feelings about where it's going etc!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So again a huge thanks to everyone reading! I'm going to try to post maybe 3 chapters a day, tell me if it's too much. The fic is actually finished now, and sits at 30 chapters with a sequel already planned!

  
"Yaz?" Graham's whisper only just cleared her mind. Eyes flickered open, and the first thing that truly came through was that her back was screaming in discomfort. Ow, ow, ow. Her arm had gone numb, and as she squinted through the dark, she became aware of a weight resting on her chest. In the low light she could see the blonde strands splayed across her dark shirt, the Doctor still clearly deeply asleep.  
In the gloom, Graham's concerned face loomed.

"You didn't come out and it got dark." he whispered, "Me and Ryan were gonna order in some pizza, did you want -"  
The Doctor groaned and twisted in slightly, a hand clawing into Yaz's shirt. She swallowed hard at the sight, looking up at Graham again.   
"Yeah. Just cheese, if you can. I don't think she's gonna let me move, though." she murmured, sadly. Graham looked down at the Doc, too. He hated this, seeing her look so - broken.

"I'll see if I can get up without disturbing her." she whispered, and Graham nodded, moving away. Cautiously, Yaz lifted a hand and stroked some of the Doctor's hair out of her face, swallowing hard. She had to move. now she'd been aware of just how uncomfortable she was. Eyes had adjusted now, and in the gloom the dark bruises on the Doctor's pale arms seemed so very vivid. Okay. She started to wriggle, sliding an arm around the Doctor's shoulders, carefully - but her eyelids flickered.  
"It's me, Doctor, it's Yaz." she whispered, immediately.  
"Yaz?" it came out a foggy mumble, and the teen wondered for a moment if she was still drunk. "Y'there? M'fam?" and there was a hint of that smile again. Yaz smiled right back.  
"Yeah, Doctor. You're just having a kip, okay?" she wriggled herself free, letting the Doctor's head loll onto the pillows. The hazel eyes peered up at her.

"You get some real rest, okay? For me, Doctor?" she asked, keeping her tone gentle. The Doctor was still smiling but she nodded, clearly already drifting off again. Yaz let out a low breath and slipped away, leaving the door ajar so there was at least a little light. Rubbing her shoulder, she was surprised by a cup of tea being proferred. Graham.  
"How is she?" he asked.  
"Still asleep. I think she must really need the rest." she said, shaking her head.  
"Never seen her sleep." Ryan murmured, frowning.  
"Caught her at it, once or twice. Got her in the floor once, actually." Graham chuckled. "Yeah, I got up early - and I went in, and she'd taken some of that, uh, that grating up? And she was in a hole, still holding a bunch of wires." he chuckled and shook his head, "Insisted she weren't, of course, but I know what I saw." Yaz caught herself smiling, sipping her tea.

"I keep getting reminded that like - she's not human. Every so often she really does seem like one of us, then -"  
"Then she goes and does somethin' totally alien." Ryan agreed, with a sage nod. Yaz and Graham nodded along, thoughtfully.   
"It doesn't matter." Graham spoke up again, "She's our friend, right? We're lookin' after her, because that's what friends do. It helps that you can touch her without her trying to kill you, Yaz. Honestly, couldn't believe that, in there ..."  
"She's like a sister to me." Yaz admitted, "Which sounds bonkers because she's so - different, but -"  
"Nah, I get what you mean, cockle. She's been adopted by me, too, dontcha worry."  
"She's older than you." Ryan pointed out.   
"Don't act like it, though." that prompted a scattered giggle from the uncomfortable trio.

They settled into quiet for a while. Ryan had his phone plugged into an outlet and seemed to be occupying himself with a game on it... as he had been most of the day. Yaz noticed his jiggling foot, betraying his anxiety, apparently... she looked back into her own tea, wishing she'd brought her laptop out but entirely unwilling to disturb the Doctor. Not now, not when she finally seemed to be sleeping peacefully.   
It was calm, for a little while, and she felt some of the worry easing off her back - until there was a loud bang. All three of them jumped. A moment later, three other loud bangs - Graham hopped to his feet.

"Why didn't the idiot use the bell?" he muttered, moving towards the door as the knock rapped again, louder - followed by a clattered from the bedroom. Yaz and Ryan shared a momentary glance before she was up, throwing open the door to the Doctor's room, Ryan only a few steps behind. The Doctor looked up, eyes like a wild animal, on the floor next to the toppled chair - her breathing almost pants. Yaz noticed with horror that her right hand had dug into her left arm, digging into deep grooves, similar to ones already there. Ones she'd assumed had been cast by other hands.  
"Doctor." she crouched, and reached out, ignoring Ryan's hiss of, 'Yaz, don't!' as she presented her hand, like one would with a terrified wild creature. The Doctor blinked, looking at her, before reaching out carefully. Yaz tuged the Doctor to her chest, letting the pair of them cling together, finally looking up at Ryan.

"She needs more help than we can give her." she whispered, and he nodded, as she held the shaking Doctor in her arms, hoping to supply just a little comfort.


	15. Chapter 15

  
Foggy.

Everything was - foggy. Dark. It was the dark.

The footsteps. The footsteps were coming down the hallway.

Each was heavy, the weight of the alien guard. His thick skin, the muscles making him excellent for the job.

The brutality in each step. She knew it. She felt the nausea rising, steeling herself.

She was so tired. It dug into her bones, but she had to take the chance.

The lights always went off, when he was coming.

The only break she ever really got from the white room. Her senses panicking in the dark, to make it easier for him to grip her, tug her away.

Blood dripped down her arms where she dug her nails in, forcing herself to stay with it, to stay grounded in the dark.

She heard her own breath, each short sharp exhale, waiting.

That was the worst part. The waiting.

She still hadn't stopped fighting. Maybe he liked that. She still would scratch, punch, kick, scream, refusing to let him in without war.

Thud, thud, thud.  
He was here.

"Doctor?" the voice was soft. No anger, no aggression. The fog was starting to clear.  
Where was the guard?   
The lights were out.  
That face - swam into her vision.   
Yaz. Yaz. She'd come to save her. A hand. A hand extended, vision flickering, changing it from gentle human digits to rough alien hand to - she reached out. It hurt, but she pushed through. Yaz touched her. Warm, almost hot, almost burning but human, so human. Relief. She knew where she was. She knew where she was.

One heartbeat, in her ear. Hanging onto the human form. Oh, humanity, in it's kindness, in it's love and goodness. She curled against Yaz, against her fam, hearing words but not registering their meaning. Just knowing that she was safe, here, wearing soft pyjamas and pressing her face into Yaz's shoulder. She'd thought, for a while, that she would never be able to touch anyone safely ever again. That being held would never bring comfort. And the relief, the deep relief that it wasn't true. Whilst she'd never been much of a hugger in this form, well, she felt good now, she felt .. safe. Her body was still healing, but the sleep had gone a long way to helping that.

"Ryan, can you get the light?" Yaz's voice floated through. The Doctor shut her eyes, and the light outside changed with a click. The arms around her moved a little. When her eyes were more adjusted, the Doctor squinted. The light was a buttery yellow, warm and comforting; so different to the stark white her mind had gotten almost used to, in the end. Her body ached, throbbing lowly, her mind felt - like half of it wasn't hers. The low headache that had been sitting in the back of her skull was making itself more known, and her throat felt like a phlegm highway. But ... she was alive. At Graham's house. Something else made itself known.  
"Can I smell pizza?" she mumbled, and Yaz started to laugh. The rapid rise and fall of her chest as the Doctor pulled away a little. 

"Yeah. Did you want some?" she asked. The Doctor paused, then nodded, slowly.  
"Yeah. Yeah, I think - I think I do?" she murmured, tilting her head. She sniffed the air, the smell of grease and cheese, and the curdling in her stomach didn't seem so bad.  
"Take it slow." Yaz helped her up, slowly, and she breathed deeply, feeling the loosening. Tugging her shirt up - Ryan twisted away quickly - she looked at the bruises. The sharp exhale from Yaz would've been missed if it wasn't for her excellent hearing. 

"Wow." Yaz reached a hand out, then stopped - letting it drop instead. "Look at that."   
The Doctor bent a little to peer at herself; seeing the vast depth of the bruises had mostly faded. It was still there, some blue, mostly a sickly yellow-green. But immensely healed.  
"Yeah. Honestly, we heal so fast. Really useful, actually." the Doctor nodded sagely. "Sleep helped. A bit." she gave a sharp sniff, and Yaz laughed, and that made a little warm blossom flourish in her chest. Hearing her fam laugh, after giving them so much worry ... Yaz moved away, Ryan opening the door, and she found herself able to step out into the main room, ignoring the soft ache and throb of deeper injuries.


	16. Chapter 16

  
There was that moment, that pause. Graham looked around at her, wearing Yaz's spare pyjamas. She tucked her hair behind her ear, giving a tiny little hint of a smile. His eyes moved over the injuries, the cuff-left bruises on her arms, the deep scratches. A lot of them had healed since she'd been resting, but she knew they were still there.  
And, bless him, he didn't say a word - he smiled at her.   
"Good to see you up and about, Doc." he said, calmly, "You want some pizza?"

"Yeah, please." she moved across to the table and sat, carefully. Ryan smiled at her, as well, sitting down with a can of coke. Yaz paused, hovering, then -   
"I'm just gonna - I'll be a second." she gestured behind her, and vanished into the room the Doctor had been sleeping in. She packed up anything ginger she could find, going and dumping it in the kitchen bin. The Doctor pointedly didn't look at her, feeling a wave of guilt, but - although that low craving for the ginger was still there - she pushed it aside. Yaz had been right about that, after all.

If in doubt, trust Yaz. She was going to add that to her list of important things. 

Graham opened up the boxes and Ryan dove straight in, helping himself to a slice of pepperoni.  
"Ugh, don't be disgusting," Yaz said, rolling her eyes as she took the fourth seat. She reached out to take a slice of cheese.  
"What?" Ryan said, but his mouth was full of pizza as he gave her a grin. The Doctor smiled, wrinkling her nose a little as she did so. She reached out, taking the thinnest slice of the cheesy pizza. Graham had taken a slice and was eating it with only a little more grace than Ryan. But when she lifted it to her mouth, the smell - nausea hit her. The Doctor dropped it, holding it loosely just over the table, breathing shallowly.

She should want it. She should want to eat it, but she doesn't. The feeling of nausea got worse, and she put it down, the grease making her hand feel disgusting. She put it back down, listening to Ryan and Yaz trading jibes, Graham chuckling and making no attempt to diffuse it. The world was going ghostly again, as if it was foggy around the edges, a strange - glaze over it. She wasn't sure how to comprehend it. The warm grease on her fingers felt like it was burning, and she felt the impulse to clean her hands. Pushing up, she headed to the kitchen, rinsing her hands off under the water, swallowing hard.

She didn't realised silence had fallen until she turned around, drying her hands, and saw everyone staring at her.  
"You okay, Doc?" Graham asked, knowing the question was pointless. She looked between them, brows raising in surprise.  
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, just washin' my hands." she paused. "Why's everyone staring at me?"  
"No reason." Ryan said.  
"Yeah, just - yeah." Graham looked back at his pizza, as Ryan scarfed down another slice. Confused, the Doctor looked down at her arms, taking in the remaining bruises and the marks from the deep gouges - oh.   
Oh, they - they were worried for her.  
The Doctor always hated people pitying her.

She moved to sit back on the table, making no effor to eat, but smiling and enjoying the conversation. Letting herself, slowly but surely, relax. Feel safe around them. Her head started to throb again, a low level headache. But she ignored it as best she could, still a light smile as the pizzas were slowly eaten and nobody seemed to notice she hadn't had a single slice.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in one day, I'm spoiling y'all

  
"Oh, Doc." Graham hopped up, going to the washing machine, "Your clothes are clean."  
She looked around with a faint smile, "I got 'em all dried too for you." he shook them out, "Wasn't sure if you wanted 'em back straight away. Haven't ironed 'em or anything." he told her. "Didn't touch your coat, though, I wasn't sure ... if it would survive bein' washed in a machine." he shrugged a little, carrying the clothes over to her. She reached out to take them, folded neatly.

"Thanks, Graham." she said, genuinely. "I'll get changed later. These are actually quite comfy." she smiled gently, and although it was a little uncomfortable to have her damaged arms visible, she felt safe with her fam. They weren't judging her for the damage, and she was comfortable enough here. She was so grateful, actually, for her Fam. They were making her feel better in a way she never expected to feel again. The headache was starting to pick up the pressure, though, and she reached up to rub at her eyes. Yaz's eyes settled on her, cautiously.

"I think I might go lay down again." the Doctor conceded. Yaz nodded and got up,   
"I'll grab my stuff out of your room?" she said, letting the question hang in the air. But the Doctor nodded and smiled gently, and Yaz relaxed a little; she picked up her laptop but left the books and the sweets behind for the Doctor. They passed just in the doorway, and Yaz paused, reaching out a hand to take the Doctor's.  
"You sure you're okay?" she whispered, "I don't mind sitting in, if you need me to." the Doctor smiled back at her.  
"Yaz, I'm fine. I feel fine, honestly. I'll rest up here tonight then tomorrow I'll head back to the TARDIS." she paused. "You guys are welcome to come, if you want..?" she left it open.

Yaz crushed down the excitement, the immediate need to respond; but judging by the way the Doctor's eyes lit up and that grin flourished across her features, lighting up the ancient being like a kid in a candy shop.  
"Let's focus on you getting better first, okay, Doctor? You don't just go from being in a white room for a year to being normal again."  
"You never know." she responded, "I'm not like you boring humans."   
Yaz laughed at that. "Alright, alright. Go back to bed. I'll be here in the morning." she promised, and the Doctor nodded, vanishing into the room and shutting the door behind her.

Settling on the sofa, Yaz opened her laptop, checking her emails, occupying herself. Graham was clearing up the pizza boxes, now, a comfortable and warm atmosphere settling over the house as Ryan watched the TV.   
"It's weird bein' back here." he finally said. "I know it ain't been that long since I moved out, but -"  
"Nah, I know what you mean." Graham said. "It's weirder having the Doc here." he added, and Yaz nodded along with it, thoughtfully. "Especially when, y'know, she seems so different." he pointed out.

There was a faint frown on Yaz's face as she looked over at him again.  
"Graham, that's not exactly fair."  
"It wasn't a criticism, Yaz," he said, quickly, "I promise, I didn't mean it like that. But you know what I mean, dontcha? She's been through a lot, god, those marks on her arms..." he shook his head, features drawn and sad.  
"She said I could still travel with her. We could still travel with her, if we wanted." Yaz said, thoughtfully. Graham's eyes widened and his eyebrows quirked, glancing over at Ryan in the corner.

"Are you gonna say yes?" he asked. Quiet fell for a moment, and Yaz frowned at her laptop.  
"Yeah... yeah, I think I am." she admitted. "I don't think she should be alone. But I don't think we should let her run off just yet. She needs help, real help, y'know?" Graham nodded, slowly.  
"Well... why don't we get her help?" Ryan piped up. "I mean, I know she can't talk about like - bein' in space jail and all that. But what she went through, like, the other thing you said - no reason she can't say it was a person, right? A normal person?"  
Yaz frowned, thoughtfully, considering his suggestion.   
"You mean like an actual therapist?" Graham said, shaking his head. "Doc'd never go for that, you know she wouldn't. You know how hard it is to get her to talk about anything."

"What if we went with her?" Ryan suggested. Graham snorted.   
"Don't be daft, son."  
"I don't think it's daft." Yaz finally spoke, voice soft. "I think that's a right clever idea, actually. Look - we know the Doctor won't talk about anything openly. But she'll talk to us. I know group therapy's a thing, and I think if we're gonna convince her to talk at all, then she'll only do it if - she's supported. If someone's there."  
"You."  
"What?" she looked around at Graham's voice.  
"Well, it's gotta be you, love, don't it? She's still panicking at the sight of me and Ryan. It's gotta be you." he smiled and patted her shoulder. Yaz had known it, of course, but hearing it laid out ... she swallowed hard and nodded. Therapy with the Doctor. Sure. Okay.

"Well let's give her the night. We can talk about it in the morning, right?" she said, with a hint of a smile.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> psyche here's a third chapter.

The door shut and she leant her full weight against it for a moment, her head swinging in awful circles around her. The pain was getting worse by the second, a blistering agony that scorched across her skull and settled behind her left eye. The headache had been a regular thing, trapped in the White Room, where she'd been left with the constant light. Memories fizzled, crackled and popped in the back of her head, fighting each other. Old memories, ones half-remembered, forced into her head by the matrix and the Master -

She felt a wave of unpleasant, sticky heat roll up her neck, reaching back to rub at the skin as more pain pressed behind her eyes. She needed to be - somewhere that wasn't standing. Okay. Bed. Wobbly, she made her way across the space and sunk onto the soft sheets, focusing on breathing. She'd figured it was a side effect of being in the over-bright space for so long, for having her brain reduced to an overstimulated mush, but - right now, in a dark room, safe with her friends, the pain was coming back. Adreneline and desperation had allowed her to block it out, but right now, there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

Nausea threatened to overwhelm her, even with nothing in her stomach. Where had Yaz left that water? Her hand reached out, groping blindly until she wrapped her fingertips around the glass. It was room temperature now but she didn't care, throat feeling sickly and parched. She sipped carefully, resisting the urge to gulp it, anything to push the pain back. Curling up a little on the bed, clutching the glass with both hands. Deep, steadying breaths as the back of her head crackled, as if electrified.

She could hear quiet chatting coming from the other room, using the sound to try to anchor herself. Eyes shut, focusing on that murmuring and the feeling of the cool glass. But it was harder and harder for her to stay grounded. Legs drew up a little, almost wrapping herself around the drink, forcing it back to her lips to take another sip. Focus. Breathe. She didn't have an icecube to hand. What was the other one, that Yaz had done? Five things. She opened her eyes. The room was dark, but her eyes were sharp, and through the fog and pain she managed to fix. The chair. Chair, with a pattern on it that she liked but someone else would think was tacky. A picture frame on the wall, a painting of - what was that? A boat? Bedside table. Wood. No - fake wood. Synthetic. Lamp. A little bedside lamp, she knew the light was buttery yellow if it was on, but the idea of even that warm glow would be too much for her head right now.

But she did feel - a little better, a little more in control. The pain made her head fuzzy, and she took a moment to try to shake it off. But it was no good. She wasn't able to switch it off. The room was getting fuzzy, the pain pressing in, sitting mostly behind her left eye. Groaning, she pressed her hand hard into the socket, trying to make it stop. She'd thought that it would stop, now she was free. But it seemed to be intensifying, and a dizzying wave rushed over her. With difficulty, she put the glass down on the floor and managed to lay herself back, resting her head on the soft pillow again.

Nausea. That was the worst, she felt sick to her stomach. She wanted ginger again, she wanted something, anything to numb the pain. But Yaz had taken them from her, everything had been taken, there was no relief to be had here. Deep breaths. Work through it. Eyes shut, plunging her into true darkness, nothing but the low throb and the fizzing of damaged memories overwhelming her. She ended up flopping an elbow over her face, adding a constant pressure over her head. That made it a little easier, a little better, but it still kept throbobing.

Flickers of memories darted and sparked. Finally in the darkness, after so long in burning light. It wasn't a panic attack. It was an unknowable amount of time, stretching away into the darkness. The Matrix, the Master, had forced more memories into her head than she could take, even a brain and mind as immense as the Doctor's. A year without rest, with only light and pain and - guards with rough hands and voices and the laughter, the laughter had been worse - she twisted sideways and retched over the side of the bed. She wasn't sure if it was the pain causing the nausea or something deeper, but her body was heaving, shaking as it tried to expel everything in her, even if it was little more than bile.


	19. Chapter 19

  
The house had settled. Graham had headed off to his room, for sleep; after Yaz had promised she would kip on the sofa. Ryan headed home, promising to keep his phone by his bed if they needed him. The house settled into a comfortable quiet. She'd put her laptop away by the bed, under a blanket Graham had summoned from a closet, a thick, heavy woollen thing that was a little itchy but ultimately very comfortable. She hadn't realised just how drained she felt, even with her impromptu nap when the Doctor had dozed off on her.

The house was warm, comfortable. Sonya had texted earlier, and Yaz confirmed she was just hanging out at Graham's. They'd gotten used to it, her family, how much time she spent there even when Ryan ended up moving out. It had taken a while to convince her mother that there wasn't anything creepy there, that it was Ryan's granddad and they'd become close after Grace had passed. But she was a grown up, she could do what she wanted even if her family was worried. Mind slipped down, into steadily deeper sleep.

She was running downriver, the water rushing on one side of her. The world spread out, fuzzy at the edges in the ways that dreams often were. But she just knew she had to run. Something was wrong, something was vastly wrong. Her feet were sinking into the mud as she kept running, driving herself faster and harder, panting as she went. The water kept rushing, loudly, starting to burble, jumping over rocks. She came to a stop as the water dropped away, peering over the waterfall. She looked over the edge, on her knees, panting; right at the bottom she could see the TARDIS, as water crashed, overwhelmingly loud.

"Doctor?" she shouted, looking over her shoulder. The river ran off in the other direction, as if - forever. She had to get down there. But there were only two options; jump, or take the water. She stood up, staring behind herself, watching the world start to splinter.  
"In for a penny." she muttered, and dived into the water, felt the cold rush and whooped as she was washed over into the air, feeling, for a moment, like she was flying. And then - she was dropping.

The noises were strange, as she plummeted down the waterfall. She stared into the shimmering water. There was something there, hand reaching out, fear fading, knowing the Doctor would save her; she pushed her hand out, gripping something, cold, hard, pulling it back towards herse-   
Rocks began to fall. A great cracking, smashing noise -   
Yaz's eyes snapped open, sitting bolt upright, the itchy wool blanket falling off her.   
"Wh - what?" she mumbled, hearing another noise - the Doctor's bedroom door flew open. She stumbled out, and down a doorway, just a flash of blonde hair. Yaz stumbled upright, following her - hearing the awful noises the Doctor was making.

"You okay, Doctor?" she asked, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. Pity flooded her, as she saw the way the Doctor's back curled around the basin. She looked tiny all over again. Nothing but bile was coming up; Yaz rested a hand on the Doctor's back, startled by how warm she was, swallowing hard. The Doctor had always been fairly cool to the touch. She wasn't sure how much time had passed since she'd dozed off on the sofa, but her eyes were gentle and full of concern.  
"I'll grab you some water." she whispered, moving away to get a glass. Graham poked his head out of his room.  
"I heard a bang." he mumbled, uncertain.   
"Doctor's being sick. I have it, don't worry. It's normal." Yaz said, gently, taking the water back to the bathroom. Deciding she had it handled, Graham retreated back to his room.

When she padded back into the dim bathroom, the Doctor had moved to lean against the bathtub, pale with sweat visible on her neck. Yaz frowned, kneeling and handing over the water.  
"Small sips." she said, gently. The Doctor looked a mess, and Yaz carefully - cautiously - rested a hand against the back of her neck. She tensed for just a second, but Yaz was seriously worried by the heat there.   
"Okay. How hot do - you - what temperature are you supposed to be? You've always felt cool to me, before." Yaz said, cautiously.   
The Doctor had been carefully sipping her water, keeping her eyes shut.  
"Mm, cooler than you." she mumbled. "'bout ... fifteen, I think? Celcius." she mumbled.   
"Yeah, you are way over that. You passed out at the flat the first night, I figured that was because you were exhausted..." the Doctor shook her head.  
"The drugs."  
"What?" Yaz said, alarmed now.  
"Drugs in the food. I'm coming down off them." she whispered. "I think. Whatever they gave me to dull my senses. Everything's coming in too loud, everything's ... coming back."

She went quiet for a few moments, not sure how she could help.   
"Why did it take so long?" she asked, gently now.  
"Physiology. My body's been metabolising at a different rate, everything's gone - fight or flight. Except not, because I'm not human but our - our equivalent." she whispered. Then she swore, dropping her head a little into her hands.   
"You're alright." Yaz said, gently, "You're okay. Sip your water. Is there anything you know that can help?" she asked, worry twisting her gut.  
"It won't take too much longer." the Doctor whispered. "Body's burning it off now, it's why my temperatures - spiking." she groaned. "It's fine. I'll be fine."

"You say that a lot, Doctor, forgive me if I don't take your word." she said, gently, "Alright. I'm gonna get a cool rag for your neck. You think you're gonna chuck up again?" The Doctor shook her head. "I'll get you to the sofa. Easier than the bedroom. Up you come." she slid an arm around the Doctor's back, gently easing her up. "Here we go." the Doctor let her help, and Yaz was sharply reminded that she had lost a horrendous amount of weight.  
Getting the Doctor situated on the sofa, still holding her water, Yaz crouched and looked up into her face. Exhausted hazel eyes met hers, and there was an ever so slight smile.  
"Thanks, Yaz." she whispered. "Not sure what I would do without you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts on the new update schedule? Too much? Not enough? I feel like the fic got away from me a bit tbh.
> 
> Anyway we're heading back into some nice Prime Angst.


	20. Chapter 20

  
Yaz puttered around. She'd turned on a low light so she could see what she was doing properly, and because any brighter was hurting the Doctor. She could see that she was in pain. Doing a poor job of hiding it. It looked like she was in a fitful doze, an arm slung across her face, the other resting loosely across her torso. With her eyes hidden by the crook of her elbow, Yaz relaxed just a little. Still that uncomfortable colour to her skin, but the bruises on her wrists were near enough gone. Not kidding about healing fast. And she knew that the doctor's ribs must be nearly healed too, because her breathing hadn't sounded wheezy at all for the last day.

But she felt pity, despite everything. She was worried, the Doctor looked in a bad way, and seeing her suffering like this was ... awful. She needed help, it was just a simple fact that Yaz was facing. The Doctor groaned; head snapping up, Yaz moved closer as her elbow moved, revealing the bright hazel eyes and the flushed cheeks.   
"How you feeling?" she asked, gently. The Doc smiled back, a high flush making her pale skin look a whole new level of sickly, her eyes a little glassy.  
"Like shit." she said, honestly.  
The words startled Yaz; she sat back and started to laugh, until she was breathless. "M'sorry. M'sorry, Doctor, you've been spending too much time with Ryan." she wheezed. Making Yaz laugh drew a toothsome grin to the Doctor's features, unable to help it, foggy though she was.

"What? Did you think I couldn't swear?" she whispered, a little breathlessly. Yaz wiped her eyes. "I'm perfectly capable of swearing, like a grown-up, Yaz."   
The police officer shook her head a little, catching her breath. "No, no, I knew you could I just - you never have! I've never heard you say anything close to a rude word."  
"You bloody have." the Doctor muttered, "I just don't say them in English. The TARDIS - she translates everything for you, except for one language. Gallifreyan."  
"Like - Gallifrey? The planet you're from?" Yaz said, a little gentler now. The Doctor nodded, although sluggishly.   
"She doesn't translate that. Never sure why. The Master..." she paused, and swallowed hard, "When he spoke, we were both speaking English. Actually speaking English. I can jump languages -" she paused, "And you won't even know it. This is Knesian. And now I'm talking in Apsic. And now I'm speaking in English again. But you'll hear English, unless I choose to have you not hear it, because the TARDIS translates." she smiled a little. "My beautiful ghost monument..."

Yaz sat back, thoughtfully. Fascinated.   
"But it doesn't translate Gallifreyan?"  
"No. I guess the time lords wanted to keep that a secret. Big on secrets, my people." she made a face, "Even from m - mmh -" she broke off midword, a sharp hiss through her teeth. Yaz sat bolt upright, leaning in even as the Doctor pressed a hand back to her face, against her left eye. Her breathing hitched, catching, as Yaz knelt, not knowing how to help.  
"What's happening? Is it the fever?" she asked, reaching out automatically, but unsure - 

The Doctor slumped back, swallowing convulsively, before flopping her elbow over her face again.  
"Turn off the light." she croaked. Yaz scrambled, carpet rough as she leant over and smacked the base, plunging the room into a darkness where she could only just hear the Doctor's rolling breath. Slowly she relaxed down again, and Yaz felt cleared to talk, although shaken.  
"What's going on?" she whispered, nervously.  
"Headache. Probably part of the fever." the Doctor lied, shaking her head just a touch, "It'll pass. The light just - hurt."  
"Don't worry, migraines are awful." Yaz said, gently, "You want some more water?"  
"I'll be fine in a moment." the Doctor said, gently, "I know human eyes don't see so well in the dark." the fizzing behind her mind settled down, slowly. She sat around, seeing Yaz in the low light. Humans - they didn't realise how well she could see. The worry on Yaz's face was clear, unhidden and open, assuming she wasn't seen. Guilt curdled, but the Doctor tried to suppress it. 

Gripping her glass, she sipped gently, resting her elbows on her knees. This was the worst she'd felt since - well - no. She'd felt worse. Physical pain was nothing compared to - she flinched. A hand reached up automatically, as if to shield herself, the other tightening on the glass. She'd have to work through that. The flinching. The constant dodging. The fear that tightened around her hearts when Graham or Ryan - sweet, innocent, human people, that she trusted - moved too fast or too close. Even Yaz. Who was, to her, the least threatening person in the universe, the one who had made her feel - so safe. The person she'd gone to, she'd trusted to see her with bared skin despite how young she was, how innocent. Yaz. Human. Twenty years old.   
Made her feel safe.

"You should try to get some more sleep." the Doctor heard the croak when she spoke. Throat a little sore. A little more water, to soothe the edge.  
"Don't think I can." Yaz admitted. She angled her head down, staring at the floor, even though she couldn't sleep. Just enough light - filtering in ambient, green and red dots on powered off TV's, routers, chargers; the ghost of the shape of the Doctor. A car drove past outside, the light filtering through the closed curtains, flickering across the Doctor's face as Yaz looked up and -   
"What the fuck?" the words escaped in a gasp as she fell backwards onto her elbows.


	21. Chapter 21

  
The Doctor jolted in alarm, head twisting, almost throwing her water.  
"What?!" she exclaimed, loudly.  
"You! Fuck, what was that?!"  
"Now who's swearing?" the Doctor exclaimed, spooked herself, hearts racing.   
There was a click as Graham's bedside light turned on, then his door opened, the older man half silhouetted in the low light.  
"S'goin'on?" he said, half asleep and half in panic mode. The light was low, only just filtering into the space, and he jolted. "Jesus, Doc!" he fell back against his door, as Yaz scrambled back from the only-slightly lit Doctor.

"What's going on!?" she demanded, confused, looking between the pair of them. Yaz stood up slowly, shaking her head.  
"Oh, that is seriously spooky. How long have you been able to do that?" she asked.   
"I have literally no idea what you're talking about right now." the Doctor said, confused, annoyed, feeling a spike of pain in her head as she stood up. She frowned, narrowing her eyes.   
"Oh, that's better, yeah." Graham said, relaxing a little. "Yeah, Doc, don't - don't do that again."

She threw her hands up in the air, then grimaced as her head throbbed and the movement reminded her that she was burning up. She could feel the nasty patch of sweat between her shoulderblades, grimacing at the sensation.  
"You really don't know?" Yaz sounded surprised, confused.  
"Yaz, I have no idea." she shook her head, "Please enlighten me."  
"You're doin' that thing, y'know - or you were - that thing cats do, with your eyes."  
The Doctor looked lost.   
"Eyeshine." Yaz said, "Like - your pupils were reflecting back. I guess we've never seen you at that angle, it was - really spooky."  
"Oh! Yeah. Yeah, that happens. It's why I see so well in the dark, yeah -"  
"So you did know you could do it!"  
"It's not exactly an ability I have control over, Graham!" she shook her head - and wobbled. Yaz stepped forward a little, putting a hand on the Doctor's shoulder.   
"You need to sit down again." The Doctor allowed it, sinking onto the sofa again.

"Drink your water." she said, reaching out, to dust some of the hair off her face. It was sticking to her sweaty skin, and Yaz didn't like how uncomfortable it looked. The Doctor stiffened, and then her arm shot across, gripping Yaz's wrist.  
"Doctor?"  
"Sorry. Sorry." her hand uncurled, slowly, almost shaking. Yaz crouched.  
"Okay, Doctor, I'm going to be very slow here, I'm going to make sure you know what I'm doing." she said, very softly. The hazel eyes opened, her pupils tiny, and she nodded slowly.  
"I'm going to reach out and hold your hands. I'm going to take away the water, and hold your hands loosely, so you can focus on my touch, okay?" she said, gently.   
The Doctor nodded, slowly. Yaz reached up, taking the glass, delicate, putting it aside on the floor.

"Yaz, what's goin' on?" Graham asked, softly.  
"Shh." she hissed at him, "Let me work. Doctor. Eyes on me, okay? Keep your eyes on me." she whispered, and the Doctor did as she was told, hazel attached to deep brown now.   
"Okay, focus. Focus. Here we go." she gently gripped the Doctor's hands, holding them in hers. "Match my breathing. You're safe. I promise, you're safe. We're going to get you help." she swallowed hard. "Do you want help?"   
She bit her lip, eyes starting to look away. "Doctor. Doctor, focus on me, please." she whispered. "I promise. You mean the world to us, but you're going to put us in danger. You need to be okay, right? You want to be okay?" 

The Doctor nodded.   
"Yes." she rasped, softly. "You mean the world to me. And I want to go back to - being me." she gave a tiny smile. "I feel safe with you. I don't want to hurt you."  
"Is it okay if I hug you?" she asked, and the Doctor nodded. "I'm going to lean up and hug you. I won't hold you tight. If you pull back I'll let go." Yaz whispered. She did as she said; the Doctor slumped her head onto the young woman's shoulder, arms wrapping around her, tugging her in so tight that Yaz felt that her ribs might break. Her dark eyes gave Graham a look, and he backed away, arms up in surrender, disappearing back into his bedroom.

"It's okay, Doctor. It's okay. Will you let us help you?" she whispered, and felt the Doctor nodding on her shoulder. Relief flooded through her, eyes shutting, letting herself relax into the contact. But mostly, she relaxed into the hope.


	22. Chapter 22

  
"Doctor?"   
Oh no.  
"Doctor? Hey? Doctor? You with me?"   
She squeezed the Doctor's shoulder as she pulled back. Her skin was burning to the touch, hotter than before, and Yaz noticed her eyelids were barely open. "I'm gonna touch your cheek, okay?" she mumbled, reaching up to feel the skin, which didn't make her feel any better. "Alright. Alright, I think I'm too warm for you -" she moved back, and the Doctor swayed in with her. She pushed back, taking the Doctor's shoulders, seeing how her eyelids flickered. "You're really burning up. Lay down."

She eased the Doctor back down onto the sofa, eyes full of concern. The Doctor's lids flickered again, hazel eyes drifting, but the movement was good - she was still at least slightly with it. Yaz moved off, returning quickly with the flannel and a bowl of water, gently dabbing it on the Doctor's neck and cheeks, uncertain.   
She heard movement and glanced around. Graham was hovering again.  
"Anything I can do to help?" he asked, uncertainly.   
"I don't know. She's gone all quiet. She agreed and then - I don't know. She was fine, but -" he approached, hesitating to touch her. "She's really hot. Do you have a thermometer? She said that she was burning off the drugs they gave her in the prison." she said, softly.

"They drugged her?" Yaz kept forgetting that Graham had missed a lot of the conversation.  
"Supposedly." she said, gently, sponging her head as the Doctor mumbled something. "What was that? Doctor?" the foggy hazel eyes looked at her, as she kept dabbing, feeling the warmth.  
"Hold on." he moved off into the bathroom, turning on the light; the wave of white light made the Doctor whimper, and Yaz felt her heart twist.   
"Doctor..." she whispered, and the Doctor mumbled. She leant in closer.  
"Turn off the light." she whispered.  
"I'm sorry, Doctor, we can't, we need to see you." she said, gently, as Graham came back holding the thermometer. 

She whimpered again and shut her eyes. Yaz reached up, stroking hair off her face, sticky with strands of sweat. How could she be fine just moments ago, and now be like this? The effort of standing couldn't have pushed her this hard, could it? She kept dabbing gently as they came back.   
"Old fashioned one." he said, "Gotta put it in your mouth, doc." she mumbled something, but Yaz was able to pop it in.  
"Here. Keep hold of that." she said, resting the damp towel over the Doctor's eyes. She relaxed a little with that covered, but Yaz could see she was definitely not good. She checked the thermometer a few moments later.   
"God. She's really hot Graham. Like, really hot."  
"What's she meant to be?"   
"Fifteen, she told me."  
"Oh, that's why she always feels cold!" Yaz nodded, but she was frowning. "What's she at?"  
"She's at thirty-six. That's - more than double. She's burning herself to death." she whispered, terrified. 

"But she said she's not sick?"  
"She lies!" Yaz exclaimed, sitting back, "I don't know if we should try to cool her down." she shook her head, horrified. "This would kill a human, changing temperature that quick."  
"But Yaz, she ain't human." Graham pointed out. "Can we give her something? Paracetamol or something?"  
"No. I don't wanna risk it. She could get really sick. We could kill her. I don't know, Graham." she shook her head, horrified as she looked at the Doctor's face. "You with us, Doctor?" she whispered. 

There was another mumble. She moved the cloth again, dampening down the Doctor's cheek and neck.  
"Look. Her bruises are nearly gone." she said, gently, wondering briefly about the rest of them. "I wish we could've gotten her to eat." Yaz mumbled. "But probably a good thing we didn't considering she brought everything up..." she murmured.   
"I wish Grace was here." Graham admitted, and Yaz nodded gently. She would've known what to do, how to treat an alien fever, right?  
"I'm gonna sit with her." she said, softly, "Go back to bed, Graham."  
"Yaz, love, I can stay up. You haven't had enough sleep as it is -"  
"You think I'd be able to sleep not knowing if she was okay? No, Graham, it's fine. Go to bed. Please." she said. He hesitated then nodded.  
"Call me if anything happens. You know I care about the doc as much as you." she nodded back at him, a tiny smile, before looking back at the Doctor's flushed face.


	23. Chapter 23

  
She slipped into a doze, resting her head against the sofa, her eyes shut as her breathing softened. She could hear the Doctor's regular breaths, tuned into them, having tugged off the itchy blanket and draped it over herself, not wanting to risk covering the Doctor when she was already so hot. Every so often she would stir, reaching up to refresh the damp rag, before drifting back under. She'd slipped into something close to a real sleep, curled up close. The room was a lot lighter when her eyes flickered open, feeling almost half-rested. Her head perked up, looking for the Doctor.

Only - she was gone. 

"Doctor?" she mumbled, sitting up. She heard a noise behind her and twisted around.   
"Yaz!" a bright smile met her, looking - almost normal. The Doctor was dressed, in everything except her coat. She hopped on her heels a little, and Yaz found herself laughing just a little, pushing upright.   
"I thought you were gonna die."  
"Me? No! I told you, I was just burning off the drugs. I feel good. Great, actually." she said, brightly. "Just looked a bit scary." her nose crinkled, "Sorry about that. I appreciate you takin' care of me, though."  
Yaz stood. She really did look better, actually. Yaz couldn't help but grinning. She stretched, cracking her spine, grimacing.

"You should get some real sleep though, Yaz. There's a free bed, I think." she gestured at the spare room. That cheeky grin was back in place, and Yaz knew she felt exhausted, but - seeing the Doctor acting normal was just - such a relief.  
"Are you going to go racing off?" she asked, "Am I gonna go lay down and then you'll be gone for another six months?" she asked, swallowing hard. The Doctor's eyes widened, and she took a few steps towards her.  
"Yaz. When I offer someone a place on my ship, it's not conditional. Never would've left you behind if I'd had the option." she said, honestly. "Trust me. I won't leave without you." she promised, with a bright smile.

Yaz moved across the space, and she pulled the Doctor into a hug. Feeling the way she tensed - then relaxed, laughing lightly.  
"What's that for?" Yaz pulled back and smacked her lightly on the shoulders.  
"I thought you were gonna die!" she reinforced, and the Doctor's smile fell a bit.  
"Yaz, I don't know where I'd be without you." she said, gently. "Seriously. Thank you. I'm feeling a lot better. I still have - a lot to work through." she admitted, frowning, swallowing hard. "And I don't think I coulda addressed - any of that without you. Not really my uh, what's the expression? Not really my wheelhouse." she shrugged. "Go get some sleep, Yaz." she said, gently. 

She moved to the cupboards. Yaz drew back a little, watching her closely, but didn't leave - not yet. She heard the door open and Graham padding out.  
"Doc!" he said, brightly, "Hey, how ya feelin'?"   
"Great!" she said, brightly, "Do you have any jam? Really craving a jam sandwich."  
"Oh, yeah, it's in the fridge." she paused, frowning, turning to stare at him. "What?"  
"You keep your jam ... in the fridge?"  
"Yes?" he replied, raising his eyebrows. "You're s'posed to?"  
"That's bonkers. You're bonkers." she opened the fridge and pulled out the jam, but Yaz was laughing. Graham rolled his eyes. "Yaz, go to bed!" the Doctor ordered, waving a butterknife. 

Yaz sighed, and stepped back.  
"Alright. Alright." she said, shaking her head, "I'm goin'. Wake me up in a couple hours, okay?" she said. Graham nodded.   
"Don't worry, it'll be fine!" the Doctor beamed at her. "I'm great. I promise."  
She sighed and glanced at Graham, but then nodded, giving up and padding into the spare bedroom. The covers were still thrown back where the Doctor had thrown them back in her rush yesterday. After a moment hesitation, Yaz slipped off her jeans and laid down in the bed. It smelt like the Doctor; something smokey, oily, and something sweet like honeycomb. She couldn't help but smile a bit, in the few moments after her head hit the pillow and before she fell asleep.


	24. Chapter 24

  
She'd woken with a jolt as the first of the morning light had filtered in over her skin. She felt, frankly, disgusting. Reaching up, slender fingers had tugged away a warm, just-damp rag. Covered in sweat, soaked through her pyjamas, but she felt ... cleared. The drugs had finally burnt out of her system. Slowly, the Doctor sat up, feeling the low ache in her muscles. Ow. That was the side effect of burning off the toxins that had been damaging her system.

Glancing down, she could see Yaz napping against the sofa. She smiled gently, wriggling up carefully, taking it slowly. When she was up, she grimaced, doing her best not to disturb Yaz. She could feel her clothes sticking to her back, ew. The pyjamas Yaz had leant her were now disgusting. She glanced towards the bathroom, stepping carefully, using her - admittedly rarely seen - more graceful side. Halfway through padding across the room there was a wave of pain, her head throbbing violently. Grimacing, the Doctor paused. Shower. She needed a shower.

Stepping into the bathroom, she shut the door carefully, and flicked on the light. Ouch. She winced violently, reaching up to press a hand over her left eye. Waves of pain and nausea rocked over her, taking steadying breaths to try to handle it. It seemed that the headache wasn't going to be going any time soon, now that the dulling drugs they'd been giving her had worn off. She did wonder, for a breath, whether it was because of them that she'd tolerated so long with the pain in a low level. But now ...

She peeled off the clothes and paused to look in the mirror. Her chest felt a lot better. She stood there totally naked; it was so strange, having the new ... equipment, that she had. And she would've gone through life mostly blissfully unaware of it, if not for the goddamned prison guards. She swallowed hard. But looking at her ribs, she could see the bruises had almost totally faded. She felt along her side, yes - healed. And then her thighs, most of them gone there, just a green-grey smattering. Yaz was right. She did look skinny, hints of her ribs showing. It was odd, though. She was so trim, but her stomach didn't look as concave as expected. Must've been the water.

Turning on the shower, the Doctor stepped in, relaxing. She kept the spray low, to stay quiet, using the soaps, cleaning all the sweat and nastiness off her body. Stepping out in a towel, she cracked the door; all quiet. Moving away, she located her clothes again. It felt good, actually, being in a full set of her clothes, clean and fresh. Sniffing them, she smiled; now she smelt like her fam. That was cool. She liked it. Towelling her hair dry, the Doctor puttered around the kitchen until Yaz awoke, feeling better apart from the pain throbbing steadily behind her left eye.

When they were on the move again, she'd be able to handle that. She would find some treatment, some healing, something. There would be something. But - there was something.   
She'd told Yaz she didn't need the ginger. Digging in her coat pocket, she searched, hopefully - maybe, just maybe - yes! She snagged the corner of a paper bag. She'd thought they'd been gone, but getting her clothes back had been just one stage of her escape, and her sonic had been in the pocket. Now that she was thinking clearly, she pulled out the little bag. Ginger laced humbugs. Just enough to take the edge off, to stop her being in a mardy mood. She popped one in her mouth, feeling the relaxing buzz start. The pain in her head eased back to a tolerable level, and she found a smile easy on her lips when Yaz finally came to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	25. Chapter 25

  
"So, how you feelin', Doc? You good?" Graham watched as she went about making herself a jam sandwich, humming something to herself as she slathered preserves messily on a slice of white bread. She looked up at him, and he was actually grateful to see her hazel eyes so bright, so - normal. That vivacity seemed to be back, and Graham had never felt so relieved.

"Yeah, I'm great." she said, brightly, "I feel fine. Feel good, actually! Finally burnt those drugs out of my system. Feel like myself again!" she beamed, and shoved a mouthful of jam and bread into her mouth. Biting down, she didn't expect the wave of nausea that rolled over her from that. She spat it back out, ignoring Graham's experession, putting the bitten bread down on the side. She swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to be sick again. Slow, steady breath. Yaz was asleep, Graham was staring at her.

"Apparently this body doesn't like jam!" she said, brightly.  
"I've seen you eat jam sandwiches before." Graham countered, frowning.  
"Well, I don't like that jam." she pointed at the sandwich, and then grinned at him. "Dunno why! Bodies are weird."  
"Does that change every time you - uh - " he gestured vaguely.  
"Regenerate? Yeah. Yeah, that changes! Different bodies like different things. Some things always stay the same, though," she frowned. "Like pears. Pears are awful. Don't know why, I've always hated pears, in every body I can remember." she hummed, just a little, and shook her head. 

"Still. Lots to discover. My eleventh body, he was -" she broke off with a grunt, raising a hand to her head. Pain arched, crackled and sparked in her skull, the headache seeming to respond to the attempt to think back. She put a palm down flat on the counter as Graham stiffened.  
"You okay, Doc? Not gonna go all psycho-nutter on us again, are you?"  
"What? No. I'm - sorry. Bit of a headache." she allowed, swallowing hard a couple times. The smile that came up was shaky. "Don't worry about it. Body's still - healing."  
"You say that, Doc. You ever gonna talk about what happened? I mean, y'know, I'm sure you have - y'know. Don't have to talk about anything, but -"  
"I don't know, Graham." she said, softly. "I've ..." she took a deep breath. "I trust you. You're my fam. But -" she broke off and shook her head.

"No, no, Doc. I shouldn't've asked." he said, quickly. "It was out of order. Y'know, prison's hell." he said, "From what I know, I mean, I've seen it on TV, those documentaries. And I can't imagine a space prison is much better." he shook his head. "Y'know, I'm really sorry Doc, honestly. I couldn't believe it, when Yaz told us -"   
The hazel eyes weren't smiling any more as they fixated on him. Graham felt a cold flourish, realising he'd messed up. Messed up badly, it seemed.   
"Yaz told you -"  
"Well, no, no, Yaz didn't tell us anything, we just, uh, we figured something out," he said, uncertainly, grimacing, "I mean, y'know, she said - something, but -"  
The Doctor leant in, palms flat on the counter now, staring at him. Her left eye was a little glassy, but her expression was still intense, and he cringed back a little.   
"She said you were assaulted, yeah. Nothing else. Didn't go into it." he cleared his throat. "Sorry, Doc. I know it wasn't her place to say."

Her shoulders slumped a little and she shook her head.  
"Can't change the past." she said, with a faint grin. But it didn't touch her eyes. "Listen, um. I'm gonna - go for a walk. Just a breather, Graham. I won't fly off. I promised Yaz. I won't break that promise." she cleared her throat as she straightened, "Think I just need some air, y'know. Good old Sheffield air." she smiled, and it seemed just a touch more genuine, but her eye looked hollow as she headed to the front door and escaped into the chilly morning air.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BAM DOUBLE CHAPTER DROP EYYYY

  
Sheffield. Interesting place. She strode down the street, feeling the breeze pick up on her neck. She realised that she'd left behind her coat in her rush to get out, and now she felt stupid. Hands shoved into the pockets of her trousers as she walked. But, as before, when they'd headed to this house ... she was reminded of the sheer joy of sky. Of an atmosphere. She tilted her head back and breathed in deeply, slowly, filling her immense lungs and smiling a little. The sun was up but it was still early, and she was grateful for the warm beams brushing the ground around her now. The heat rested on her arms, now, and the cuts were almost faded, the bruises completely gone.

Her head was throbbing, a low, steady pressure as she walked. She let the breeze chill her a little, enjoying the feeling of that on her skin. Her hearts felt steady. She felt ... okay. And sure, she was a little sore, but - most of that was fading. Her eyes drifted down, seeing a few people with dogs walking past. She let herself get distracted by a very affectionate labrador, as she walked along. The owner seemed surprised by her but was just smiling as she knelt down, fussing the dog. They licked at her face and she laughed, scratching them for a good five minutes.

"I'm really sorry, but I gotta go." the owner said, amused.   
"Oh! Oh, of course!" she said, backing up.   
"Come on, Sandy."  
"Bye Sandy!" the Doctor beamed, still on her knees, waving goodbye to a very happy dog. She was about to sit up when a glitter caught her eye. Leaning forward, she picked it up, hopping neatly upright, dusting gravel off her exposed skin. She tilted it back and forth, frowning as she tried to place the coin.   
"Oh! Twenty nineteen. One pound! Nice and shiny. Excellent." she beamed. Not usually one for money but - she took off at an easy walk, pushing down the pain.

A dozen feet down the road she almost bumped into a stranger coming out of a doorway. They scowled as she stopped.   
"Oh! A corner shop. Love a corner shop." she said, brightly, to no one at all, and she went in. Finding a pound and finding a shop. Serendipity! She wandered in amongst the aisles, ignoring the glances from a teenager in a tracksuit and a bored-looking clerk at her till. Of course, the Doctor was unaware that her clothes were weird at all. She liked her clothes! Yaz bought them for her. From a charity shop! And it felt so much better than all those stuffy suits she'd worn for so long. Although Yaz had mentioned she looked very striking in a waistcoat.

She paused, mid-browse. Ooh. Custard creams! She bent down and picked up the packet. Holding it loosely in one hand, she browsed the other shelves, wondering what else a pound could get her... almost at the till, she paused. Paracetamol, ibuprofen... aspirin. She glanced at her pound. Fifty pence for the custard creams ... fifty pence on the label for the painkillers. She frowned, caught for a moment - pain pulsed behind her eyes. Then an image of Yaz, the fear in her eyes as she sat in the dark.. her hand dropped. Custard creams on the counter, the Doctor accepted her 50p change then dropped it immediately in the head of the miniature labrador statue sat on the counter, before she headed back into open air.

Walking down onto some greenery, the Doctor spotted a bench. The grass was fresh and spongey under her feet. What a beautiful view; she could see so much of the city up here. She plopped down on the bench, feeling more alive than she had in - actually, a long time, now.  
Opening the packet, she bit into the first biscuit. For a moment nausea rose but she forced herself to follow. Looking at the crumbly, beautiful piece of human creation in her hand. She could smell the sugar-sweetness. Cheap and cheerful, perhaps like her. She smiled and bit into it again, before looking out over the beautiful scenery again.

"I love Earth." she mused to herself, and finished off that biscuit. It seemed her stomach had finally woken up; before long she'd decimated almost half the packet. Now she wished she'd used her 50p to get a drink, but it didn't matter. Her eyes were drawn to the pigeons that were landing nearby. Grabbing a couple more biscuits, she crushed them in her hands, throwing out a handful of crumbs and smiling as more birds came down. Apparently fearless, they began a little feast on the biscuit chunks she had scattered.

The peace was broken, though; she heard the crunch of approaching footsteps before the birds did, scattering in a great flurry of wings.   
"Yaz." she said, softly, as the young woman sat next to her.  
"Didn't think you'd go far." she said back gently, "Thought you might want this. It's cold." she handed over the Doctor's coat. Despite herself she smiled, accepting it, standing and sliding it on, immediately feeling the warmth before she sat down again.  
"Custard cream?" she offered the packet and despite herself Yaz chuckled, accepting a biscuit and crunching it. The birds took a few minutes but came down, pecking again. The silence fell between them. Yaz could feel the building tension, though.

"Why did you tell Graham what happened to me?" oh. Ouch. The words stung. She shook her head.   
"I didn't mean to." she said, softly. "I still don't think that Ryan ... understood. It's not like you told me much. You don't have to, either." she said, quickly. "But I know that something like this shared will be ... will be easier. You said you wanted help, Doctor. This is the way it starts. With you talking about it. Just with me." she swallowed hard. Yaz wasn't sure that she could stand to hear what had happened to the Doctor, but - she knew it had to be said to someone. And she would be that person for the Doctor, no matter how much it hurt.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are gonna start to get really, really heavy here, folks.   
> But we're almost done! Three chapters left.  
> Closure and all that.

  
"So. Stormcage was -" she cleared her throat. "Awful. I've been locked up before. Loads of times. Y'know. Future prisons, ancient Greece, space pirates, unlimited number of spaceships and jails, even in a Pandorica -" she grimaced as pain arched over her head, tightening her hand on a biscuit for a second as she rode out the pulse. "- but it was nothing like Stormcage. White rooms are - are awful." she shook her head. "I don't really sleep, you know that. I don't like to sleep, I - well. Time Lords don't need much sleep, when it comes down to it." 

Yaz nodded gently, letting the Doctor talk. She watched as the crushed biscuit was shattered again, drawing in more birds, pecking up the crumbs. Her dark eyes were cautious, but she wouldn't push too hard. The Doctor talking about anything, let alone something like this, was a big, incredible moment. She didn't question how the Doctor had come to have a packet of biscuits. Not entirely sure they weren't stolen, but still.

"A white room. Light, all the time, endlessly. It - it was bad. Because I don't rest much, I think I held out longer than they expected." she took a long, slow outbreath. "They left me there for a day. I tried everything I could think, to get out of there, but I wasn't - wasn't in a great state, really. After everything that went down." she swallowed hard, shaking her head, "They came the next day. Dragged me out. Took my clothes. They had a hose." she shut her eyes, "Sprayed me like I was an animal. I've never felt so cold." she murmured. "They gave me the prison clothes. They were so thin." she frowned, a little, hands wriggling together. 

"The first ... I don't know. They never dipped the lights. I started to hear things, after a while. Kept imagining I was talking to the fam." she chuckled lightly, moving her arms to wrap around her stomach, staring at the birds. Mostly pigeons, a few blackbirds; a jackdaw flew down as well, pattering cautiously around the outside edge of the flock. "It helped keep me there. Talking to older versions of myself, talking to you. Had such a bad headache. They gave me food that night." her throat bobbed. "I ate it, then everything went kinda ... foggy." she murmured. "I realised they were drugging me then." she shook her head again.

"The only time I got out of that light was when they were asking me questions. Things about things I don't remember. I know - some of it, from all the memories that the Master shoved into my head in the Matrix." oh, and there was that spike of pain again. Her head throbbed violently, her left eye flickering with white light. Oh, that was a problem she was going to push back for now. Deal with that later.   
"But they were asking me things I don't even know." she frowned. "They realised pretty quick, but not before ... well." she cleared her throat. "It doesn't matter about that."

Yaz looked at the Doctor again, eyes wide with hearing her brush that off. What could make it worse? What was so bad the Doctor wouldn't say? She watched the rapid rise and fall, the Doctor breathing a little faster. Her hands clenched into each other, eyes fixated ahead, hazel focused on the birds.  
"The guard... at least a few weeks had gone by." she murmured. "From what I could figure. It was - after that point that things got worse. The guards were on a rotation. You didn't see them that much, in the white room. They pushed the food through the door on a tray every night. It was -" she clenched her jaw. "It was pretty bad. But - I remember the first time he came in."

A deep breath in, deep breath out.  
"You don't have to tell me more, Doctor, if it's too hard -"  
"No. No, it's - I think you're right, Yaz. I have to now, or I never will."  
Yaz reached out, and touched the Doctor's arm. She startled slightly, eyes flickering down, then loosened her own grip, letting Yaz's palm rest on hers, holding onto it. Yaz was relieved by just how cool the Doctor's skin seemed to be now.

"No humans there. They're - there's a mix of different species. Prison guards are the same, the universe over. There's Judoon, but they don't tend to stay on there, they roam. There were quite a few Ur'dgen. They - they're big guys. Scaly. Um." she swallowed hard, "Scary, I guess. But they were - fine. This guard, he - I don't know what he was. Didn't looked too different to a human." she mumbled, "Must've been seven foot, though. He was -" her breathing caught and Yaz squeezed her hand gently. "Y'know, some - some different features. Tusks and - it doesn't matter. I thought he was taking me to be interrogated. Of course I fought. I always did." she barked a laugh.

"He cuffed me, and when I kicked him, he threw me across the room." Yaz exhaled sharply. "I've been hurt before, Yaz, you understand that. I've gone through a lot. I thought my back was broken, but he picked me up, and he told me - if - if I didn't do what he said - that he'd rip me apart." her shoulders shook badly.   
"Doctor -"  
"No, it's fine. He didn't do anything to me that day. Said there were was too much fight in me. Couldn't really see, when he was done. Everything went foggy, for a bit." she whispered. "I think it must've been a week when he came back. Of course, you know how stubborn I am." she laughed, a little breathlessly.

"Took me to an interrogation room. They were - nasty. Like really, you'd think a jail as important as Stormcage would be willing to clean up once in a while!" her voice was too strained for Yaz to laugh at the joke.   
"That time was worse. He - hung me off a hook on the ceiling. Like I was meat." the Doctor's hands were shaking as badly as her voice, despite Yaz squeezing.   
"He - spent time there. Took my clothes off. Didn't use his - y'know. Not that time. But I think that was one of the worst times. Just his hands and - leaving me hanging there. Naked." her shoulders curled in.

"Oh, Doctor."  
"The next time - I was dreading it. And I really fought. Really, really fought. Drew blood. I had to get out of there. Y'know? It really hit me then." she shook her head. "He left me be. A few weeks, again. They just ... left me in the white room. The whole time. I tried not to eat the food but he seemed to come the night after I did, every time." her throat bobbed again. "And then the next time, he -" she looked down, exhaling sharply. "Well. That was when it started. And he chucked me back into the cell. I don't think I moved for a few days." she was shaking like a leaf. Yaz moved, wrapping an arm around the Doctor, drawing her into a tight hug.

She was right. She'd never been filled with such a rage before. Yaz wanted to strike, to hurt someone, to do something to make sure that the Doctor was never hurt like this ever again. But she settled to hugging the trembling time lord instead, because that was the one thing she could do.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another heavy one folks. Almost done, though. Two chapters after this.   
> Well, a chapter and an epilogue essentially!

  
"Doctor, it's fine. Honestly. You really don't have to tell me any more." Yaz whispered. The Doctor shook her head again, and squeezed the hand Yaz was still clutching. She tilted her head back, and Yaz saw the shimmer of tears there.

"I thought, when this was - over, when I got out - that I would never have to speak about it ever again." she laughed shakily. "Push it out of my head, gone forever. But I guess it never will be." she shook her head slightly, trying to stop herself from slipping into that awful headspace again. To add insult to injury, the ache was getting worse, pulsing behind her left eye with an awful focus.

"But I guess I gotta talk about it." her throat bobbed. "Because you're right, Yaz. Because now I keep thinking. I'm - a Time Lord. Or close enough. I'm - my people were seen as gods, once upon a time. Never believed that, of course not, just - absolute rubbish." she gave a tiny smile. "But this - this is happened to me, Yaz. To me. I was - made to be vulnerable. I was - I never stopped fighting. But someone who isn't me - and I still - " deep breath. Another squeeze, Yaz grounding her.

"People need to know that this isn't okay." she whispered. "They need to know that they're not at fault. No matter who. Only cruel, awful people do what that guard did to me. After that point, it - it got fairly regular. Sometimes I fought back enough that he - he would let me go with just a beating. It got worse, towards the end. It was then that I realised how to get out." she murmured. "And I was lucky that I was so strong, that I was able to actually get out of there." she looked at Yaz. "How many people don't?" 

Nausea rolled in her throat again, and she looked away. "I mean, I knew it - it happened. And I know it doesn't just happen to women but I - there was so much respect when I was a man. Right? Because - it never occurred to me. That people would abuse their power like that. That they would take - every bit of your dignity. Strip it away. An' god... Yaz, it hurt." her shoulders shook. "I've been electrocuted, I've had surgery done whilst I was awake, I had a hand cut off but it just - hurt so much. Because it wasn't just his body. It was like he was trying to strip every bit of me away, every bit of my - my personality." her breathing hitched again.

Yaz rubbed at her back gently.   
"I was lucky." she said, again.  
"No, Doctor -"  
"Yaz. I was lucky. Because I had you to help. But I was thinking about that lass you told me about. What the police put her through. You all believed me. But even if they did believe me, they wouldn't care. I don't know how many people in Stormcage have suffered. How many are going through that." the nausea got worse again. She swallowed hard, throat dry.

Quiet spread as Yaz searched for the right thoughts. The right words. There was a weight in her chest because she knew that the Doctor was right, that the whole situation was awful.  
"How many people blame themselves, Yaz? It was my fault for what I was wearin' or - or bein' in the wrong place, or - any of those reasons? Because none of them are at fault. Not one. The monster who decides to do that, who takes that step, they're the fuckin' monsters." she groaned, and dropped her head into her hands, releasing Yaz's hand.

"Doctor." she said, gently, and moved to kneel, startling the birds. "You're right. Because it's not your fault, either. And I'm glad you told me, even if it felt awful. Because admitting this terrible thing, it's good. You know a bad thing happened, and you know that you weren't the cause. Right?" Hazel eyes lifted and she nodded, slowly. "Say it for me?"  
"It wasn't my fault." she whispered.  
"Bit louder, Doctor, come on."  
"It wasn't my fault." she said, nodding firmly, and Yaz smiled. She stood, picking up the packet off the side, then offered her hand.  
"Well done. Now." the Doctor took the hand and stood, as Yaz spoke, "Do you think you could say any of that to a sexual assault therapist? I mean. You'll have to say it was a human and skip over the prison bit." she said, softly.

The Doctor frowned, not sure, but - maybe...   
"I'm sure I can invent a story." she whispered. "That's close enough." she nodded. Yaz felt a weight off her chest. "I mean, if I have nothing to be ashamed about, then I guess... there's no shame in telling someone trained to help. Right?"  
"Right." Yaz agreed, with a wide smile. 


	29. Chapter 29

  
"I can't do this."   
Hands trembled. The paper held in them shook so bad that it created a soft rattle in the air. Her breathing was hitching and catching, in her chest. Eyes were wide, pupils blown, shoulders hunching inwards. She swallowed hard, wishing she had a drink, water, a cup of tea would be great -   
"Can I get a cup of tea? Just a cup of tea. Five sugars. Milk. Please. If I can. Can I get a tea? I'm gonna get a cup of tea."

"Doctor."   
A hand reached out, and she startled, jolting back violently. Panic was threatening to take over, her hearts were racing and her lungs were aching. She stared at the shape, seeing the hands up in surrender, and eyes diverted in shame. The paper she was holding was crushed in her hands. The date and time squished. It marked her appointment.

Therapy appointment.

She was going for therapy.

"I can't do this, Yaz, I'm sorry, I can't, I can't talk to -"  
"No, you can! You can, Doctor, I promise, you can." it had been short notice, and she'd had to dip into her savings. But the therapist was a good one, she was knowledgable, and she would be able to help the Doctor. They'd gone over the story, over and over again, without touching the details - because even though she cared about Graham, the words just wouldn't happen in front of him. And Graham, as much as he could, understood that. He cared so deeply about the Doctor, but he'd heard plenty of horror stories about things like this from Grace.

So they were sat in the quiet room, waiting to go in, and Yaz was sat next to her, eyes wide and concerned. The Doctor was spiralling, badly spiralling, and whilst Yaz knew that she had struggled to get the Doctor here at all - she'd insisted she couldn't come. That it was too long to stay. She'd tried, multiple times, to leave and go to the TARDIS, to the point where Yaz had actually considered cuffing her - just the idea that it might trigger a whole wave of awful memories had prevented her.

"Yaz. Yaz, please. I can't." she insisted, trying to stand. Yaz got up, pushed her down, and crouched in front of her.   
"Okay. Focus. Focus on me, eyes on me, Doctor. Deep breath." she said, gently now. "Remember what we did before? I'm gonna tell you what I'm doing and you're going to nod if it's okay, alright?" The Doctor nodded.   
"I'm going to take your hands." she reached up, gently, "I'm taking away the paper and putting it down." the Doctor focused on her hands being touched, the feeling of Yaz. "I'm going to breathe slowly and steadily, and you're going to copy me. Here... you're going to feel my pulse." slender pale fingers moved, resting against Yaz's pulse, feeling how calm and steady it was.

And she mimicked, the slow, steady breaths. She felt her hearts calming, but every time she thought about talking to a human about the assault, her mind started racing.   
"No. Focus. Breathe." apparently Yaz had noticed her breath speeding again. "Please Doctor. Do you trust me?" she whispered.   
The Doctor met Yaz's eyes.  
 _If in doubt, ask Yaz._  
"Yes, I trust you." she whispered.  
"Good." she smiled gently.

"Yaz." she whispered, leaning in a little. "I don't want to do this alone."  
Yaz frowned and sat up.  
"You're not, you daft doughnut."  
"What?"  
"I'm coming in with you." she smiled, gently. "You won't be alone.  
I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue to go. Thank you all for staying with me during this fic, I hope you've all enjoyed it; I am planning on maybe doing a follow up which will probably be just as heavy.  
> The other fic I'm working on atm, Breathe, is sort of slotting it into a loose third fic position with the unwritten fic sitting between them? But it can standalone, too.
> 
> Anyway.  
> Expect the epilogue later tonight.


	30. Chapter 30

  
"Doctor Jane Smith?" the receptionist called. Yaz stood up and took the Doctor's hand, pulling her upright. She swept up the crushed note too, and kept her steps even with Yaz's. They went to the door, and stepped in; it was ... nice. Nicer than the Doctor had expected, actually. She looked at the woman sat there, who proffered her hand.

"Doctor Jane Smith?" she asked, lightly, getting up as the Doctor stepped over to shake it.  
"Just Doctor's fine."  
"Uh ... right." the therapist said, but she smiled anyway, unflustered.  
"Yasmin Khan. Just Yaz." said Yaz, also shaking the hand. "I'm sitting in."  
"Ah yes, I was informed." she said, with a smile.

They took a seat each, Yaz gripping the Doctor's hand tightly, providing her support. The therapist spoke softly and calmly. The Doctor shifted her thumb so she could rest it against Yaz's wrist, feeling the calm, steady pulse soothing her. Yaz was calm. She could be calm too. She pushed back the headache, refusing to feel it, fixing herself onto the person in front of her.

"Of course, you don't have to say anything you don't want to." she said softly, and smiled. Yaz smiled back, and looked at the Doctor; and the smile that came up on her face felt more comfortable and natural than she realised.  
"I'm here, too." Yaz said, gently. "Don't worry, Doctor. You're gonna be fine. I promise." Yaz whispered.

The Doctor nodded, and looked over at the smiling therapist.  
She took a deep breath.  
And she began to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go... that's all over.  
> I hope you all enjoyed it.
> 
> I'm not a victim of SA myself and I'm aware it's a fic that was walking a fine line. I hope it's not been too much for anyone, and that I've not been disrespectful to anyone. Potentially gonna be moving forward with a sequel, so we'll see you there.
> 
> Much love, all of you, and stay safe.


End file.
